Wind pushed the courtyard banners flat against their poles.
Liam had one foot in the stirrup when Sophie's voice cut the morning in two.
“Answer me," she said.
“How long are you going to keep longing for her?".
He paused, jaw tight, and slid his boot back to the ground.
“Move," he told the groom without looking away from Sophie.
The groom took the horse and vanished as quickly as an apology.
Sophie stood in the gate light with her hair unpinned, fury making her beautiful in a way that didn't ask permission.
“Every week it's the river.
Every month it's maps.
Three years." Her mouth curled.
“For a ghost.".
“She is not a ghost," he said.
“Then she is a grave you dig every morning," Sophie snapped.
“And you make us all live beside it.".
He swallowed words that would only turn to
