Forest travelled south-east on the long and winding road from the San Lawrenz, stopping in Victoria’s city at the heart of Gozo. As he drank deeply from a newly purchased bottle of water, he looked around the town. Time could have stopped here in the 1930s. If only time could have stopped before Lucy died. The air thick and humid. Foster was reminded of bringing his daughters here when they were little girls and felt the loss deeply.
Foster remembered the day trips they used to take to Gozo when they first came here. He smiled, clinging to the memory. The horn of a car pulled him back, and the smile faded.
With another bottle of water in hand, he returned to his car, headed to the quaint coastal village of Mgarr and the only route to Malta. As he drove onto the ferry, he could feel the t
