Evangeline kept her gaze locked on the heavy door where her mother had just departed. Inside her chest, the memory of Silver raged like a merciless storm. Again. She had lost him again. The vast, opulent bedchamber suddenly felt suffocatingly narrow, the walls pressing in on her. Weakly, she brought a trembling hand up to cover her eyes, lying back against the pillows as she fought to contain the tears threatening to spill over.
Though she was calculated and cold most of the time, Silver held a sacred, irreplaceable piece of her heart—both in the forgotten past and the harsh present.
A hot tear finally broke free, tracing a slow line down her pale cheek, until she suddenly felt a soft, cool fingertip gently brush it away.
Evangeline snapped her head to the side.
Staring right back at her with wide, inquisitive eyes was a familiar figure, comfortably lying beside her on the grand mattress.
"Why are you weeping, Evangeline? Did someone hurt you?"
