It was unsettling news, but little could be done about it.
Asa had told me that Midnight had left for Normandy this morning. Kennedy, being as spritely as she was, had begged her Aunt Midnight to tag along. So Kennedy and Midnight were heading to Normandy.
I still thought that Midnight was in no condition to travel, her mind as it was, but if she had Kennedy for company then risk of a brash suicide would lessen substantially. I know Midnight would be able to protect our little Kennedy, she was skilled enough.
Her children looked a little lost all day.
Later today, Asa had rushed out on some errand. He didn’t specify what. I saw him reading some letters. One of them must have been the stimulus. He hasn’t come back yet, so I’ll have to ask him about it later.
In other news, we’ve moved out of the bunkers. And hopefully we’ll never have to move in there again.
Queenie is recovering nicely from her wounds, and she’s in so much pain she can’t cause any trouble.
I admit, it’s a guilty pleasure to see her being quiet and staying in one place – even if she scowls and sulks a whole lot.
Also, the young gentlemen, Travis Stoll, who came with Asa seems to be quite taken to our Brynna. I see them sometimes, walking in the garden or riding horses, holding hands or chatting fervently – complementing conversation with fruity laughter.
It’s nice, to see some peaceful drama going on in this house. I believe our family is far too violent for our own good.
But then, when was violence ever for any good?
I should talk to Brynna, interrogate her like any other excited mother would. I just hope she’s as much fun to interrogate as she is when we all play Pictionary.
Ah, Asa’s returned, I think. I heard the front door. I wonder what all the commotion is about, though…