“Realities become harsh with realism.”
“Realities become harsh with realism.”No sunlight, no matter how bright, or birdsong, no matter how joyous, could relieve her of the heavy dread that weighed down each step she took.
Viviana had decided to walk to Santo Spirito that morning, knowing Carina would arrive by her own family’s carriage, affording Viviana time to think. It was the last thing she needed.
Thoughts of what she had seen the evening before collided with those of what awaited her. She would stand by their decision. She would enter the basilica through the front door, through the throng she knew awaited her. What she wanted most of all was to run from both. There was nowhere to run, for she herself had laid the stones of her path.
“Viviana!”
The breeze carried her name to her
