An hour or so later, Lysandra stood in front of her mirror, wearing the dress Ismene had spoken of. She examined it on herself: a bright purple gown, the fabric smooth and flawless. The color was deep and dark, like an abyssal pool. If she could just reach for the mirror, step into it, she might be able to fall down into that pool and never come back up.
"Remiel will be here soon," Ismene said. "His family, too. Why don't you go downstairs and wait for them!"
"Sure." Lysandra turned away from the mirror. She cast a glance at the window once before leaving the room and saw the same melancholy clouds that had gathered over the horizon since the day she had met with Cale. And it had yet to rain.
She perched on the edge of a chair in the living room and waited. Vasu rushed out the door to o
