We moved slowly down the dark back roads in the direction of home. Like a boat on a quiet stream, we drifted. The road like a wet canal in front of us, lined with trees. Large twisted silhouettes leaning down to peer in through the windows as we passed. They whispered to each other in the night concerning what they saw. “I saw a father and two children”, “Two girls”, “The oldest is sleeping”, “The younger as well”, “No. She’s awake, just sick with a fever. She is dreaming but she is awake.” The voice of the trees rippled in the shadows as the car drove on. “Can they hear us?”, “No”, “Perhaps the child.”, “Yes, the child.” The young girl was in fact…