“Why’d they do that?”
Sheri twisted her skinny braid around her finger. It was the one benefit of having really fine hair. She could get it to loop five times while Marina only could loop hers twice. Long fingers helped, too. Marina’s were chunky. From Dad’s side. “Needful how?”
“Protect the tree, this does.”
“From what?” There was nothing in their end of the park.
“From whom, more like.”
Sheri unwound her braid and stuck the edge of it in her mouth.
“Mom doesn’t like it when you do that.”
“Mom isn’t here,” Sheri stated. Besides, her sister was just jealous because her own hair was too short to suck on. “Protect from who? And why?”
“‘Tis for me to know and for you to find out,” Marina regarded the ring of metal stakes, the tree, her sister’s face.
“You plain don’t know,” Sheri stomped, frustrated.