It was idyllic, with rolling fields kissed by the high summer sun, until the sky broke and the first of them landed.
“The cattle had stirred early that morning. It was strange. Hetty’s call was more of a wail and the cockerel didn’t crow. It should have been a warning. But my rose-tinted view of life at Dappledown filtered out the primal caution. My life was soft. Fluffy marshmallow clouds, sweet and soft, wrapping me up in suspended safety. I didn’t know the sugar crash was coming.”
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