Rhys stared at the book in his hand, then turned to the man. He wondered what the book contained. Secrets? Tales of a life once lived? He wiped off the blanket of dust that had settled on the book during the years it lay hidden in the darkness.
Underneath the dusty layer, there was a name scrawled in long, fine lines. To his adult eyes, it was obvious that the writing was that of a child, but he could tell from the neatness of the strokes that the child possessed an inert ability. Perhaps 'Alice'- the name on the book- had been a girl with quite the talent for drawing.
He glanced up at the man. "This belonged to Alice?" he asked.
Adrian shook his head in reply. He looked weaker. Rhys noticed that perhaps the struggle with death to remain in the world of the living- even as a sha
