10
In silence, we walked slowly toward the window. The blood frosted over in intricate patterns that looked like tiny veins stretching across the glass. An eerie reminder of what I had endured in my sleep—now manifesting.
“Carne din carnea mea, să fie încă și nu mai avea de suferit,” Kane said softly. What it meant I had no idea, nor did I want to know. It was something I thought would have been better left unsaid.
I looked at Kane, then back at the window, and placed my hand carefully on the pane. An image flashed through my mind—an image of Adrian, my child. Looking down toward the ground I saw nothing, only the snow, stark white and glimmering in the sunlight. No blood marred its beauty.
“What does this mean? Am I to lose our child, Kane? Please tell me it isn’t so, please!” I was f
