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373 pages, Paperback
First published March 23, 2015
My heart pounded, Hou-din-i, Hou-din-i, his name my private incantation. How many times had I said it over and over in my head to block out the past? Everyone knew who Houdini was, but I always thought of him as mine, my own, my phantom father. To hear his name spoken by her laid me bare. Who was she?
'They are fragile things, Til the Lil, so many tiny bones, some fine as hairs. They've just knocked themselves senseless against the window, can't tell their head from their tail. When they are hurt they long to be back in the egg again, so best keep them warm and dark to mend.'
The noisy room had trickled slowly to silence, guests turning to look at her, my Lily-at-a-loss-for-words. Oh, I could have given her words to sing, like a ventriloquist’s doll she would speak at my direction.