Everything hit her like a freight train. The feelings were too much, too fast.
“Alright, everyone, give her some room,” Bram said, as if he’d plucked the thought right out of her head. “I’ll take you to your room" We kept it untouched, no one’s been allowed in since you left.”
“Thanks, Bram,” Dahlia replied.
He fumbled with an old key before finally unlocking the door. Dahlia stepped inside, her eyes scanning the space. Bits of memories trickled back, some faint, others sharp and uneasy.
“Hopefully this jogs a few things loose,” Bram said, watching her carefully.
Dahlia moved to the dresser, her fingers brushing over a small wooden horse. She picked it up, holding it gently.
“I made that for you,” a boy’s voice echoed in her mind. “Happy birthday!”
“Thank you, Bram. It’s lovely,”
