Chapter Twenty-Eight
Fickle's memories unfolded slowly at first. He took the time to check the mud on his leather shoes and admired a yellow flower for what seemed like eternity. He bantered back and forth with Oliver, chatting about everything and nothing. It all seemed perfect and innocent.
Until he saw her.
A still body in the high grass, her features hidden from view but a bracelet around her arm drew his attention.
"Aurélie?" Fickle's voice trembled as he hesitantly stepped towards her. "Is... Is That you?"
"Oh, you know each other?" Oliver asked.
Fickle knelt down, his concern with the woman. He rolled her onto her back and the most agonising wail shrieked through the basement. The raw sound bounced against the walls, amplifying the pain and grief.
Samantha's chest tightened a
