Sixty Two
The morning mist that always clung to this seaside city had finally burned away, leaving the afternoon bright and almost deceptively warm. Sunlight spilled over tiled rooftops and pale stone facades, turning the streets honey-gold, pretty enough to fool a lesser woman into believing the world was steady. Zaria knew better. Her heart felt heavy, not only from the lingering ache of River’s absence, but from the unknown that seemed to loom just beyond the horizon, like a storm waiting for permission to arrive. Even the shopping district, usually loud and harmless, full of vendors and laughter, felt wrong today. Charged. Restless. As if the air itself was holding its breath. The nannies, having finally unpacked the last of the trunks and crates over the past few days, had been eager to
- Writer
