We scrambled up the tangled roots of the Memory Tree. Above, the branches creaked. I climbed careful, wary they’d snap and come falling upon us. There was a weight to them I had not seen before. Though the fruit blooming between grey leaves were palm-small, they seemed to drag the whole tree earthwards. This close, our laughter died away and we stared up, caught in the shadow of the tree. It was Maura who broke the silence, easy as she’d snap a twig.