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But who was that second creature?
Aron returned quickly to his cottage and, first thing,
checked Petal's room. He saw, to his relief, that she was
indeed there, curled up in her bed. So he went to bed
himself and slept more peacefully than he had in a long
time.
The next morning he awoke and went directly to his
loom, waiting for Petal to rise and make him some
breakfast. But she slept late that morning. Finally, his
stomach rumbling, Aron called out, "Petal! Come on! Make
your old father some breakfast."
She didn't answer.
Perhaps she knows what I did and is being spiteful,
thought Aron. "Come on, girl! Up!"
She didn't answer.
Aron went to her room and found her still lying in her
bed, curled up. Naturally, there were no puddles this
morning, a fact that gave Aron much satisfaction.
"Up, my girl!" he called, walking over to her and
brashly pulling away the covers.
His eyes nearly popped out of his head. It was not Petal at
all but pillows set up to mimic her form.
Without a moment's hesitation, Aron dashed from the
room, grabbed one of Petal's large gardening shovels, and
ran to the dried pond.
When he got there, he saw what, in his eagerness, he
had missed the night before: his daughter's gown, lying
rumpled on the bank
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