Chapter 2 - Stitches

The next morning, he woke up in his tattered old bunk, as he did every morning, with his arms wrapped around his pillow and the scar on his lip stinging like hell.  But when he rolled over to check the time, he saw a tuft of brown hair sticking up from beneath the old quilted bedsheet.  "Katie?"
Silence.

"Katie, you awright?"
Another piercing silence.

"Katie?"
"...what..."
"You awake?"
"...no..."

He smiled.  Even his 7 year old grand-daughter had more attitude than him.

Two hours later, Katie was prancing around the flat, dressed in a simple t-shirt and purple leggings.  "When can we go, Papa?  I want to see the castle again!"
"We'll go in a second.  Have you done yer teeth?"
"Yeah!"
"Oh, awright then.  Get your jacket on, we'll head out the now."
"Yay!"
Katie scrambled around the dusty living room searching for her jacket, squealing in excitement.  "I want to climb on the castle!  I can to go to the very top!"
"I'm sure you can, sweetheart.  Let's go."
Wrapping his old, wrinkled hand around her tiny, soft one, they began to walk down the steep road which would take them to the Hay Hill "castle".

For every step he took, Katie had to take three.  "How can you walk so fast?"
"You've just got bonnie wee legs, m'dear.  You'll grow, I'm sure.  Then you can walk just as fast as me."
"Really?  So I'll grow into a giant?"
"Maybe, if you eat your greens."
Katie giggled.  Her smile widened as she spotted the ruins.  "Look!  There's a funny man there!"
Katie pointed ahead, giggling excitedly.

His heart stopped.  "A...a funny man?"
"Yeah, he was wearing a funny mask! He ran away when he saw me."
"What kind of mask...?"

"It was like...remember when I fell off the wall back at home, and I had to get stitches?"
"Aye..."  He mumbled nervously.  She couldn't be telling the truth...but how would she imagine something like that?
"He had them all over his face!  Does he think it's Halloween?"
"Uh...I cannae see anything, dearie...are you sure you saw him?"
"Yeah, but he ran away, I swear!"
"Sweetie, how much sleep did you get last night?"

"Well, I got into your bed at 10, I think, and we woke up at 8...how much is that?"
"Uh...ten hours.  That's normal for a bairn o' your age..."

Was it possible that someone had returned?