What I had learned since his departure was how to give the semblance of a functioning human being despite my soul being gone. The pain was enough to pin me to my bed, but I moved and talked and acted as if I wasn’t broken in every way imaginable. Most people were fooled by it. Even my mother was starting to believe the act. She thought I was recovering. She kept preparing my favorite meals, she kept pouring her everything into Blossoms of Hope.
The only one I couldn’t fool was Samandriel. For some reason, the flyer knew exactly how I felt. As if my broken heart and mind were a powerful beacon warning him of my sorry state. Maybe there was something truly angelic buried deep down in these flyers. Maybe there was a need for them to save us, even if it wasn’t our souls they cared for. The ut
