Illya clutched her head, cringing from the vivid memory of her death, skull bashed on the concrete fountain, and lungs filled with water, leading to her drowning. Illya watched in horror as Daphne’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“What are you even talking about? You must be going crazy!” Daphne mocked, her palms sweaty, unsure of where her nervousness is coming from. It was as if Illya caught her doing a crime she had no recollection of ever committing, so why?
It scared Illya how genuine her confusion sounded as if the ravinette had forgotten her crime, but so did Illya. How come she had forgotten? Illya is certain, however, that the flashes of memory did happen in this very same place once. As for when it happened, maybe she knows, for she controls everything in this dimension separated f
