A glimpse of my memory.
Valenticias POV~
I’d ditched the silver gala gown for a cream sweater whose softness felt like flimsy consolation compared with the “Galden lab rat” leak that scraped my soul. Rosanna’s warning about Gregor, the part he’d played in my forgetting, resounded, the weight of the jade hairpin snuggly in my hair, a connection to a history that otherwise might slip entirely from my grasp.
What if I’m running from a lie I can’t bear to face? I climbed up the grand staircase, the silence of the hallway punctuated by a series of thuds, each breath shallow as I looked for Grandmother in her room. The oak door groaned open and she stood revealed by a crackling blaze, silver hair shining about her, fierce eyes but with a softness, a warrior’s glance as softened by love. Sta
