35
I know my memory of that day isn’t right.
I remember the sun kissing my face and the wind lifting my hair as I rode through the fields beyond the reaches of Frason’s Glenn.
I remember laughing with abandon.
And Liam laughing with me, the deep tambour of his joy burning in my soul with a fire I didn’t understand.
I remember the sun glinting off my darkened hair in a new way, and somehow not being frightened by the change.
If the perfection in my mind were somehow true, the first blooms of spring had begun to appear, and white flower petals clung to the green fabric of my skirt as I wandered, searching for treasure. The sweet perfume of the blooms tickled my nose, and I tucked a pink flower in my hair.
We rode for miles, searching and knowing the city waited for us, but somehow sti
