Liora Ashwin
The grey light of dawn filtered through the heavy curtains, casting a long shadow across the space above me. For a moment, everything was white and blurry. I blinked a couple of times, and then the images settled.
The room was unfamiliar. The taste was exquisite, the ceiling carried bright chandeliers that shone like crystals, the windows were covered with heavy black curtains, and there was Helene. She walked around touching one object to another.
“Pass me the dried purple rose,” she said, and a hand extended it from the corner. My head tilted and fell on two assistants. Everyone was busy, like we were in some sort of emergency.
Then his scent hit me. It was so thick in the room, but not his presence. I tried sitting up; a low gasp tore through my dry lips.
“Oh my… you’r
