“What was it like?” Bill asked. “You told me earlier that you are not three separate personalities, but one. But that as you grew younger different parts of your personality grew stronger or weaker.”
Polina wrinkled her brow, searching for the right term. “It was like…like finding a book you thought had been long lost, but as soon as you saw it, you remembered every word within. Like a prisoner being released from a cell in my mind, rampaging through my brain, and taking up the reins of my will.” She slid her hand from his groin to his shoulder, a long lingering caress which made him shudder with pleasure. “I was no longer Mother Snegurochka. I was the Snow Maid.
“But she is not gone, Bill,” she said, noticing his look of dismay. “She is merely subsumed. She did not die. When we need her
