Only May - Carol Lovekin

Listen. The bee walks across my finger, slow as anything and I can see through the gauzy wing, to the detail of my skin. You aren't looking in the right place. If you look her in the eye and tell a lie, May Harper will see it. And if she doesn't see it, the bees will hum it in her ear. Her kind mother and her free-spirited aunt have learned to choose their words with care.