“Does your heart yearn for your absent spouse?” Roland approached and took a seat nearby.

Millie’s cheeks flushed with color in response to his words.

“If only I were that fortunate soul.” He sighed, a pang of longing evident in his voice.

“Do not utter such words,” Millie protested softly, plucking a willow leaf from the ground and absently twisting it between her fingers.

In the quiet of the previous night, she was ensnared once more by a haunting nightmare. Within its clutches, she found herself traversing the corridors of a shadowed abyss, a place devoid of light and warmth.

In her dream, there was no sun to be found, and the familiar faces of those she knew were absent. In this shadowed realm, Marcus coughed up a gush of blood before her, and she wept inconsolably.

The burden of the dream cast a pall over her day, lingering like a specter at her side.

hush of her grandmother’s slumber, Millie ventured

out a sigh and gazed upward at the sky. Her heart felt as if it were split in two, with

my

cut

solemn shake of the head signaled Roland’s

Angela’s Library

this pastoral refuge, demonstrating a cunning disposition. Perhaps your presence back in

brow furrowed

depart at this

in his grasp, each page a testament to his

yearning to enter warring with the knowledge that her

has arrived. Why haven’t you departed yet?” Trenton returned, his steps

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