SWINDON, APRIL 30th, 1872
Both the horse and I are exhausted, but I take a deep breath and spur him, making us move forward again. We are soon riding through the empty streets of Swindon, the horse’s hoofs hitting the ground violently. The sound is probably making the people think that a storm is coming.
The moment we pass the square, I can feel my chest growing even heavier. I am incredibly anxious about being back like this. But I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. If those dreams are real, I can’t even begin to imagine what my aunt’s presence could have meant. And I must find out.
Soon enough, I can see the familiar scenery in front of me. I swallow nervously, my heart beating even faster than before. The golden light is enlightening the façade of my home, making it s
