Chapter Sixty-Five
Scarlet orbs and tinsel shimmered at the edges of Sophia’s vision. Before her, people were dancing, eating, drinking. She looked down to see four splendidly dressed wooden pigs perched at a table, plates of roast chestnuts and glasses of port in front of them. She looked up at the people all around her, the sound of flutes and violins, the smell of cheeses and aromatic vin brulé. She thought she was hallucinating, but Leoncjusz was there. Walking toward her, encircled by a cluster of fireflies that only she could see. He was wearing a new coat and scarf. He smiled. That kind, almost goofy smile she swore she’d never forget.
She ran to him, then slowed. This wasn’t a dream, yet he couldn’t have possibly survived.
‘How did you . . . I thought—’
She felt tears spill ont
