Chapter 93
We’re coated in flowers but our sacks are nearly depleted. We try to salvage what we can. The blossoms are rumpled but they smell divine. I pull a trampled rose from the ground and hold it to my mouth. “Live,” I whisper, and it blooms a majestic pink in my hand. Felicity smirks. “You do know that won’t last, Gemma. Flowers die. It’s what they do.” I nod. “But not just yet.” On the hill, the chapel bells peal, calling us to our duties. Felicity brushes the dirt smudges from her skirt with a quick whisk of both hands. “b****y weddings,” she mumbles. “Oh, do be happy. How do I look?” She gives me barely an appraisal. “Like Mrs. Nightwing. That is what comes of befriending her.” “Charming,” I sigh. Felicity removes a petal from my hair. She c***s her head, examining me. The corners of
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