There was a painful pause when the constable told them she had gone away of her own free will, but it only lasted for a moment. They had seized her at once, flinging the gate open and swooping down on her, her mother weeping, her father speechless, hugging her to him, her grandmother babbling with excitement. The rocking chair had been given to her when she was very small, but she still squeezed into it sometimes, when no one was looking, because the rocking made her almost remember something pleasant, something soothing, that would never quite come up to the surface of her mind.
Winnie pulled her little rocking chair up to her bedroom window and sat down.
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