"CARO," SAID IOSEFA WITH concern. "Do you think now is the right time?"
"It's never going to be the right time." She stood and walked rigidly to a bookcase, sagging against it. Despite her distressed and somewhat worn-out appearance, I recalled my dream about the man and the woman in the forest, and the wolf that attacked them. Sympathy bubbled up inside of me, but I pushed it down as I tried to process what she had said and why Iosefa looked so worried.
How could she be my mother's sister and not my aunt? It sounded like a stupid riddle.
The two adults looked at each other, communicating in a way I didn't understand. I noticed again that she seemed a bit older than Iosefa, and it suddenly registered that she was a lot older. My mother had been in her sixties when she'd died, but Caroli
