“You’re still alive, Victoria!” Alexandra says, and I hear in her voice her concealed excitement—she’s trying to keep it together. I can see it in her eyes, her joy—holding back tears of joy.

She moves too fast and hugs me—and all I hear reverberate is the cracking of my back as she hugs me tightly. A grunt slips from beneath my lips, but she pays it no mind.

“I’m so glad you’re alive,” Alexandra says again. This time her voice cracks. I reciprocate by wrapping my arms tightly around Alexandra. I dart my eyes from a Vinnie powerless to hide her jealousy.

Alexandra pulls away—but is quick to grasp my cheeks and butt her head against mine for a kiss on the cheek—a slip away from lips.

“Is this one of your Ruthenian greetings?” I mutter, a little in disbelief at the prospect that I nearly have my virgin kiss stolen from me. And from Alexandra from all people!

“Is that how you treat a good friend after separation for so long in Australia?!” Alexandra tries to step on my boot but refrains at the last second—a kick in the shin is enough for her. Another grunt from me.

Alexandra continues, “I never thought… I would see you again.”

And she would be right. By some divine miracle, I had a brush with death. I practically did almost die. Almost.

I lessen my grip on Alexandra, which she does likewise. She takes a few steps away, brushing her eyes with a sleeve and quickly regaining her composure. She pays no mind to Vinnie, much to the latter’s dismay. Vinnie steps away to give us some space. Poor Vinnie.

“Well!” Alexandra crosses her arms. “Not that I expected you would die!” Heh, I fail to conceal a scoff. Whether or not she pays any notice to it doesn’t matter. “But we do have some catching up to do, don’t we? Entertain me, Vicky.”

Alexandra coolly leans against the railing next to me, inviting me to the afternoon lake view with her. “Blimey, where do I even begin?” I ask. Alexandra laughs—that annoying seagull laugh of hers that’s all too obnoxious.

“From the start, love! Where else?”

“I see your poor attempt at Aussie hasn’t changed one bit. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed about you.”

“Only when I’m with you, darling.” She says, a jab at the ribs.

“No really love, stop it, it’s embarrassing to me and Aussies everywhere,” I answer. What is wrong with this woman?

“What happened here in good ol’ Francia while I was out with the main fleet, for starters,” Alexandra says, with a hint of seriousness in her voice. “What warranted leaving behind my homeland for an unpleasant venture across the Kongriega corridor?”

“Unpleasant?” I say. But Alexandra doesn’t answer, she peers out to the vast body of water, a solemn expression across her face. Her jolly grin is gone.

The three of us watch on in silence as a school of swans glide peacefully across the gentle water, leaving a trail of ripples disturbing the peace.

I begin to speak. “Back in August, the commander of our fleet decided to cross into Toscana territory through Valspon—Mafia territory and strike at its capitol in Lübeck. After the initial operation briefing, I made a flashy example that this was not a sound idea.” I stop, glancing at Alexandra for a reaction. “Because, after all, that wasn’t in our mission directive: we were to stay in the Frankish Domains and nothing more.

“At the time, I wasn’t aware of our true objective… Well, it’s hard to say if it is true now—that we were supposed to keep an eye on the League Militaire, who operate out of a previously lost Cluster colony. Back in August, it was just that: we were to keep an eye on and observe Frankish activity in the region.”

Whatever it is, it’s hidden behind a stoic wall.

I continue. “The commander of my ship disapproved of my unauthorized use of tactical operation usage and gave me a slap on the wrist,” I wince, remembering the incident in which we were thrown into a cellar for a bit. It’s like picking at a healing wound, remembering Buttermilch and our talk.

I almost want to stop, but I feel it’s necessary to give Alexandra the full story—as much as I can. I take a deep breath before continuing. Alexandra hasn’t said or done anything since I started talking.

“We crossed into the Valspon system without issue, and to my knowledge without giving the pirate fellows a chance of amenity, we opened fire, then we began blockading the first Cluster—Malabo. But they broke out not long after that—a withered old man gave his life so his fellow pirates could flee to the next Side; Baltit.”

I grip the bars, I catch Alexandra’s eye for a brief second as she notices me stiffening up.

“Baltit is where everything went wrong. I wanted to go to the strategic meeting that was scheduled then—to stay as one uniform group or split up and chase after the side at Baltit—and then split up again and head for Lübeck.

“That’s where my simulation stunt came to mind, in my and my ship commander’s eyes. We knew it would be a bad idea—to split an already small naval force into smaller strike forces. Not only Lübeck, but the fleet commander, Chal Hugo, wanted to secure our rear, too. That force was much smaller than the others we had.

“I wanted to…” My knuckles hurt as I squeeze harder on the railing. “I wanted to make my voice heard first and foremost at the Malabo strategic meeting. I wanted everyone to know that this venture into Toscana was going to be a disaster if we did this. Buttermilch knew how I felt—Buttermilch was my ship’s commander.

“But it was reserved for department heads only. If only I was his adjutant…! If only! Things could’ve been different, Alexandra!” I turn to face her, unable to contain the frustration I’ve fostered all this time.

Alexandra seemingly pays me no mind, her eyes on an emerging family of black swans circling the white ones. Both groups hiss at each other. Some of the black swans are rearing to flap their wings. The water below us isn’t calm anymore, the waves are more apparent.

“Such idiocy!” I mutter, trying to refrain from causing a scene. The civilians near us go about their day without a care in the world for us. It’s like they’re in their own little bubble… how envious of them I am.

“From what Buttermilch told me, Commodore Hugo praised me for my publicity stunt, but it wasn’t enough… it wasn’t enough!” I slam the bar again, a pulse of pain from the hard metal. I grit my teeth continuously. “It didn’t make a bloody difference in the end.”

“And then what?” Alexandra asks softly. Her gaze never breaks off from the swans in the fixated standoff between parties.

“The Commodore’s aide insisted that this was the way for the operation to proceed. For us—for Hugo to gain his fame and glory,” I say in almost a mocking way. Fame and glory paved with blood—but without the fame and glory. The only one who gained any notoriety was the Mafia in the end.

After another deep breath, I continue. “’Take the capital and the rest crumble’. There was no actual opposition to us at this point, other than the harbor of both Sides being stiff. It was almost like Hugo was in a hurry to secure his victory… After all, we were deviating away from mission directives at that point. We left the Frankish Domain in a vulnerable state—unbeknownst to any of us with the League, that is.

“Our squadron was the one to head for Lübeck.” I clear my throat, grasping my elbows and peering into the flaky reflection of a miserable blonde below. “Hugo was so confident that he—that no one expected a counterattack of any sort. We were truly so confident in our strike that we believed that the mafia in Valspon was cut off from communication—but we were wrong.”

Alexandra glances at me as I continue.

“It started with a captured Federation battleship that warped right on top of our forward destroyer squadron,” I say softly, just loud enough over the waves below. “No one saw it coming. Few survived to warn the rest.” I close my eyes, remembering those precious moments when I should have died. When most of our bridge was sucked into the void. When the personnel next to me were ripped away, her cries were on deaf ears. It could’ve been prevented. The Yilan paid a terrible price.

It should’ve been me.

“My ship was rammed,” I say with a deep breath. “Buttermilch was pierced by a loose metal rod. He saved me—and he died instantly.” I raise my head, unable to bring myself to recount what happened in those few seconds I was deprived of oxygen. That horrific near-death experience that is forever haunting.

Straightening up, I continue. “I took temporary control of what remained of our fleet and maneuvered back to safety—soon enough, our fleet retreated into Frankish territory. Our ship was the last to go.”

“The last to leave?” Alexandra asks. I nod. “You didn’t stand and face…”

“I met the Madame Scarface personally,” I answer.

“And you didn’t kill her?”

“I spared her, and she spared me,” I say. “Because I cared more about the safety of the personnel that listened and wanted hope."

“Hope,” Alexandra repeats. She backs away from the railing. Her expression was all the more serious. “Hope?” More tense this time, she grits her teeth, flashing her rows of sharp teeth. Without warning she grabs me by the collar, pushing me onto the railing. Vinnie and I nearly cry out in unison.

Alexandra stares intensely into my soul. Her eyes twitch as she speaks, her lips curl—twitching as if fighting against her feelings. “You didn’t kill her. You didn’t fight back. My brethren died for your hope. You forfeited their hope for yours. You lived so they could die.” The anger in her eyes paralyzes me.

“I, none of us had any idea…” I stammer, “We had no idea the Madame Scarface nor the mafia fleet was engaged with the Admiral at the opposite end of Toscana!”

“But the fleet was there!” Alexandra says, trying to stifle her voice. “You had the only chance to neutralize her and the fleet… and you didn’t. Why? Why?!” Alexandra slams me into the railing. “Why didn’t you kill her and save lives, Victoria? Why!?” The tears swell in her eyes. “So many lives lost because you were bloody fucking selfish!”

I just wanted to live. And despite all that, so many died because of me. Far more than I could’ve possibly imagined. It’s like my world is shattered thinking about it.

I destroyed lives so I could save a precious few.

It’s coming back to haunt me when the last thing I told Li Chou was to give ‘em hell at Rouen.

I can’t even think anymore. The deepest depths of hell await me. And even then it wouldn’t be enough to repent.

Alexandra lets me go, and I fall to the ground. Vinnie tries to kneel and comfort me, but it makes no difference.

Slowly, with Vinnie’s help I rise to my feet. I can’t be bothered looking around for others’ reactions. Nobody in their right mind would want to intervene. This is a matter between us—it doesn’t directly concern them.

“Even at Rouen, my brethren acted rashly,” Alexandra says, somewhat relaxed this time. She leans onto the railing, following the wider circle of black swans outing the white school of swans, who retreat to an isolated island to our right. “They charged in without support, and the Admiral gave them free rein. In the end, we were just cannon fodder for the main force. We almost had them.” Alexandra bangs the railing. Again, and again. “We almost had them! Even when they held our flagship hostage… even after we retreated and tried again… the Admiral turned his back on the mountain of corpses he created!” She shoots a glare at me before continuing.

“You Aussies are truly all the same! It’s despicable. If it were me…”

“You would charge straight back into the fray?” I ask. Knowing the answer all too well. Likewise, Alexandra doesn’t answer.

Alexandra begins. “I’ve seen the suffering of so many people throughout the galaxy. Needy people. Sides in poor conditions. Communities are distraught and rife with crime and unemployment. We, the soldiers of the Federation, fight for their freedom and security. But what good is that when there’s injustice in day-to day-life? Everywhere we went, every place I went ashore to, it felt the same.

“But not here, not in Francia. Not in Ègara. It’s peaceful here. No one is suffering. It’s almost like they enjoy the same luxuries as the people back in Aussland. It’s…” She lowers her head over the bars, before raising her head again. “Frustrating. It hurts me on a spiritual and patriotic level. I wish for a world where everyone everywhere can experience the same tranquility, the same peacefulness as here and Terra. Why must it be so, Victoria? You must feel the same way.”

I almost feel compelled to nod.

“You and I joined up to make the Federation a better tomorrow for generations to come, did we not?” Again, I nod in agreement. “Why must we squabble and bicker with one another? I just do not understand. I told you once that my father was against me coming to the Academy, remember? That was a lie.”

I can’t help but turn to her in confusion. What?

“He demanded I go,” Alexandra continues, staring out at the black swans enjoying their newfound supremacy. The white swans waddled ashore to their island, holding the black ones in contempt for their domination of the sea. “It’s too dangerous in Ruthenia, Victoria. Even for me. When I told you it was too scary to put on the uniform in my homeland, I was not kidding. The contempt for Australians is unimaginable—there is no way I can describe it for you unless you went firsthand.

“What happened in Toscana was the final straw. When I departed Ruthenia the first time, it wasn’t bad. When I returned from Toscana, people were in open arms.”

I interject, stiffening up as I do so. “The Admiral told us all about it, I saw some video footage of it firsthand,” even thinking about it gives me goosebumps. “I believe every last bit of what it and you say.”

Alexandra gives a nod as she continues. “I’ve never seen anything like it before. For a brief period, I couldn’t go anywhere without guards. Not because I wore the uniform but because I’m the daughter of the most influential leader in all of Ruthenia.”

“Tory Dolz, the Mad Dog of Ruthenia,” I say. Alexandra scoffs. Lowering her head again.

“Now they call him the Lion of the Rebellion,” she says, raising her head again. “My father is regarded as the most radical of the Ruthenians—he hates Terra with a passion.”

I interject. “Then why send you to Australia…?”

“That’s the thing, Vicky! He’s the least radical back home. He’s what keeps the extremists at bay. It’s because of him that Ruthenia isn’t at war with the rest of the galaxy—at least Metropolitan Sol. Vicky… he’s responsible for organizing the Emergency Committee for Ruthenia. He wants a peaceful resolution to all of this nonsense!”

So he wanted to keep his daughter safe from immediate danger by keeping her under surveillance at the Academy.

“I want to live in a world where fear is vanquished and nobody has to live day by day wondering if they can afford a loaf of bread and eggs for their family,” Alexandra declares. “A world free of corruption. A paradise where people live as they are here in Francia, in Terra.

“It is inhumane that the rest of the galaxy lives in poverty and oppression in contrast, don’t you think?”

“If only the world was that simple,” I answer. The moment of silence between us is only interrupted by the occasional wave and the hissing of swans below us. Perhaps they yearn for food from their human belligerents?

“Back home, the swan is regarded as our patriotic symbol.”

“Because it’s a bully to other species?” I ask, taken aback by this sudden change in subject. There’s a long silence before Alexandra answers.

“Something like that. We see ourselves as too prideful and protective of our homeland.”

“You go on about equality and then compare yourself to a race like swans,” I say. “What am I supposed to take away from that, Alex? Do you want to see Ruthenia dominate the others?”

“No, didn’t you get anything that I said?”

“Do you get anything out of that blubbering bloody mouth of yours?” I remark. I let loose a sigh before it gets heated again. Alex relents too, relaxing her shoulders and her grip on the bar.

“There’s so much we have to learn, the two of us, I guess.” And then abruptly adds. “I’m sorry I lashed out at you, Vicky.”

“What’s bringing this about all of a sudden, love? It’s just one topic after another with you.”

“I mean, we didn’t see or contact each other for a whole year,” Alex said, a hint of sadness in her tone. “I didn’t want to meet on such bad terms like this, either.”

“Bad terms?” I say, not trying to hide a chuckle. “I’m at least glad you’re alive.”

Alexandra sighs in relief. Her shoulders sag. “For now,” Alex says. That freezes me momentarily. “You’re aware of our operation to retake the Ishtar-Terra colonies, aren’t you?”

“Yes… as a matter of fact…” I relay what happened back there during my brief visit to the Trinidad. Alexandra remains in utter silence for the whole duration of it.

Once I finish, I lean, using the railing as support to keep me upright. “I’ve done a bloody foolish thing, haven’t I?”

“You’re simply learning from your experience in Toscana, aren’t you?” Alexandra muses. Leaning forward on the railing. “And the Admiral openly expressed his approval of you for it, isn’t that enough?”

Looking back on it now, I wonder. “Aren’t I setting us up for another disaster?”

“What do you mean?” Alexandra asks.

“We’re putting all our eggs in one basket… there’s no telling that Churchill chap will even be there. For all we know, it could be empty. They could gas the whole thing like a canister for all we know. And then there would be no real opposition to whatever plans they may have.”

It does make me wonder though… Why didn’t they make a bigger wave when we were away in Toscana? Did they simply not know?

“No one knows for sure. The Admiral may adjust the operation as he sees fit, after all.” Alexandra remarks.

Taking a deep moment, I turn to Alexandra, and she does the same after noticing. We stare at each other face-to-face, a grin born of awkwardness escapes her face. “What is it, bloke?” Alexandra asks.

“I intend to serve with the ground invasion,” I finally let it out. My gaze falls to the floor.

“You what, mate?” Alexandra asks in that pitiful accent of hers. She really should drop it. It doesn’t fit her in the slightest. I’m more impressed that she doesn’t walk around Ruthenia with it. She’d get lynched in a heartbeat. She seems too self-conscious about it, though, so I can only afford a sly grin as I look her in the curious eyes again.

“I intend to serve in the initial waves of Operation Thunderbolt,” I answer. Alexandra turns away, clearing her throat. Her gaze returns to the calmness of the swans asserting dominance over the body of water. The white swans return to the sea in a show of force to the defenders. There is no immediate action between the two, just a constant saber-rattling.

“Have you gone insane?” Alexandra asks. I can’t help but afford a melodramatic chuckle.

“Maybe I have?” This is the only appropriate answer I could suffice for.

“Based on what you told me so far, I wouldn’t put it past every Aussie to feel like they need to one-up each other with fame and glory. Is that what you desire, Victoria?”

The question hits me unexpectedly. “Are you saying I’m no better than Commodore Hugo? Diving headfirst into danger without regard to anything else?”

An abrupt sharp pain from my left side makes me collapse to my knees with a crying gasp. I look up, and Alexandra has one fist out—right where she struck me. The look of displeasure on her face as she looks down on me is valid enough as an answer.

“Is that where your ambitions lie?” She demands. “I thought you and I were alike, Victoria. Maybe I am wrong. What purpose does being a death seeker follow your beliefs of a better tomorrow? Pathetic.”

“Alexandra, I…” I can’t get the words out. It certainly knocked the wind out of me. I look down at the cement, grimacing as I try to get up. Vinnie offers her help, and I wobble onto the railing for support. “Was that really… necessary?”

Alexandra blows hair out of her face, crossing her arms. “Maybe it was? How would all the people who died for your sake answer if they heard you declare that like some sort of death-seeking buffoon? You could just die where you stand instead, it’d be faster. Then you could apologize to all those you let down personally immediately. What would your good Friederika say about that, huh? Have you even told her yet?”

“I…” I lower my gaze, using the railing to stop me from slumping down again.

I didn’t tell her, not yet. But maybe she knows I will. I just have a hunch. And if she’s here… she’s probably with Paul. Maybe they both arrived at the same conclusion by now, knowing Kiki, she won’t keep a lid on it. As much of a lovable idiot as Kiki is, she’s capable of thinking.

“What would your father think? Your mum?” Alexandra demands. “What would that Paul fellow say?”

I have no words. My fists ball before I realize it.

“What would all the people who believed in you during Toscana think? All those who died so that the rest would survive? Pathetic.”

“What am I supposed to do then? After that charade with all the top brass on the Trinidad, you expect me to just sit back and let me condemn all those poor soldiers to a meat grinder while I take all the credit?!” I try to stand up straight, toughing out the whack Alexandra inflicted on me. “Could I live with myself any further by not participating than what I did in Toscana? They regard me as the Miracle Ensign, the Toscana Heroine… all these embarrassing names! If it fails…” I grit my teeth, “if this operation fails and a huge loss of life prevails yet again… I would take all the blame for it. All the humiliation personally for me, for the rest of my life—and that’s if I live. If we succeed, I will forever live up to a reputation I could never… in a million years owe up to. Don’t you see, Alex? Either way, I’m fucked! I shouldn’t have lived… things would be better if I died that—“

My vision blurs momentarily. When my senses come back, I realize I was smacked. I touch my cheek softly. “Not even my old man hit me.”

“Honestly, truly, pathetic,” Alexandra says. “Maybe that would’ve done you better if he did.” Alexandra straights out her jacket, then her cuffs. “Sorry, Vicky… I was too irrational.”

“You’re apologizing?” I ask, nearly gawking.

“I still hold you dearly as a friend—a friendly rival.”

“Whatever do you mean?” I’m just completely at a loss now. It truly is one thing or another with this woman.

“My anger got the best of me, that’s all. Maybe you’re right… who knows,” a deep breath. “There are things today I need to reflect on later. But for now… it seems we have company.”

“Huh?”

Alexandra turns partway from me to a group of people approaching us.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the life of the party!” Alexandra says, flashing her sharp teeth. I look past her—then groan in disbelief. The troop of trouble I sort of don’t want to see right now. I didn’t notice that Vinnie left our side to greet them somewhere along the way.

Kiki and Paul.

Paul?

I have to do a double-take. Paul? I can hardly even think. Prince might’ve said off-handedly he would be here… but I feel so unprepared for this moment.

He looks… handsome. It’s not like the lanky, dorky, nerdy good-for-nothing that I saw back at Canberra Academy. Well… not that I ever paid much attention to him in the first place.

When I see him now, I just remember the nightmare before the hyper-jump to Valspon, before Lucky Alphonse began. I shake away the thoughts not wanting to remember it now.

He looks… built. But it’s hard to tell beneath the uniform. He has broader shoulders, his hair isn’t as big or curly. He looks like a made man. I can hardly believe my eyes.

The only thing I can be certain of now is he’s alive. Paul survived. He did survive the Hualian crashing into the Jaguar during the Toscana disaster, and for that, I can hardly keep myself together.

Uncharacteristically, Alexandra stiffens up. Her gaze lies somewhere else, beyond the trio that approached us. “I have something to attend to,” she turns to me with a smirk, showing off those creepy sharp teeth of hers. “I’ll let you catch up,” without letting me get a word in, she strides off past us three, but reels once she reaches the curb. “Victoria!” She declares, one hand on the hip and the other pointing at me. “This may be the first and last time we see each other as friends. In the future… things may not be so simple as they are now.”

“M-ma’am?” Vinnie stammers, rushing away from the confused two towards her mistress. “Do you wish for me to escort you?” She glances past Alexandra at the busy crowd behind her, but judging from her movement she can’t make heads or tails of what attracted Alexandra’s abrupt attention.

Alexandra glares at her for what feels like forever. “If you so wish, it doesn’t concern me either way.”

“Yes, ma’am!” And just like that, the two scurry across the street. Just as she comes into my life, she vanishes. The first and last time we may see each other as friends? That’s absurd!

But a feeling in my gut tells me something is going on back home in Ruthenia that demands her immediate attention, whatever it is…

“Oi, chum, earth to Vicky!” Friederika’s cheerfulness whips me back to reality. She stands before me alongside Paul. I have to actively avoid eye contact with him; my heart flutters every time I see him now.

“I see… you have been chummy without me,” I say trying to laugh it off. I need some amusement now that the conversation with Alexandra is out of the way.

“Victoria… it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Paul says. Even his voice makes me nervous. I clutch my chest, trying hard not to remember that horrific nightmare during the Toscana hyperjump.

Should I tell Paul about it later…?

“What’s wrong? You look like you saw a ghost or something!” Friederika says, jabbing me in the chest. She may not know it, but she’s awfully on the mark. I can’t bring myself to even bring it up.

“It’s no good, Friederika,” Paul says. He glances back at Alexandra—unable to find her. Whatever business she has is urgent to leave in a flash. “What’d that gal say?”

“Alex? Oh.” I sputter. Trying to to regain composure. “Never mind that I can tell you another time. We just had… er, a lot of catching up to do.”

“It’s just one catching up after another, innit?” Paul says with a smile. I force myself to divert my gaze. Friederika and Paul can’t help but chuckle.

“You know…” Friederika twirls her hair. “This is probably just as sudden, but I think I should leave you two alone. Paul is right, the two of you have a lot to catch up on, right?” She shoots me an evil glare. What the hell are you setting me up for? I want to scream at her.

What the hell was I thinking, leaving these two alone together?! For the love of God…

“Are you sure? I’m sure the three of us could make for a merry couple.” Paul says, gleaming with a smile. Friederika and I lock eyes. She hides her arms behind her back. For some reason, this strikes me as unusual Friederika behavior.

“No, um…” she takes a deep breath, “I figured you would understand, Paul, I’d rather leave you alone for now. You deserve this.” Huh?

This is awfully out of character for Friederika. Am I to take a hint here? Is that it?

Paul, on the other hand, is probably on the same wavelength as her. He shrugs. “Suit yourself, suppose we meet up here again then? Just remember the hotel and coffee shop across the street, I guess.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Friederika takes a few steps away, and waves—a sad glance at me before she departs.

And now it’s just Paul and I.

The awkward silence that befalls us lingers for a long time as we watch in unison as both parties of swans depart from the scene. It’s peaceful again—but I can’t help but have an inner fight with the butterflies in my chest, neither can I bring myself to glance at Paul. My cheeks burn red, and I turn my head so he can’t see my embarrassment.

Why does it have to be Paul? Curse you, Friederika!

But for some reason, I feel relieved… happy even. That Paul is alive. That this isn’t a dream. That this isn’t the nightmare I experienced with him. I turn to face him—being caught off-guard that he must’ve been watching me out of the corner of his eye since he turns at nearly the same time. He’s only a few paces away, but still…

“Um…” he breaks the silence, scratching his head. “Care for a walk? Maybe we can find a nice place to sit down and walk, er…”

Well, he’s just as awkward as the few instances where I did acknowledge his existence. That thought alone tugs at my guilt strings. After all this time—after all the Academy shenanigans and the incident with Toscana and the Hualian, I never gave Paul the time of day.

Just what was that nightmare trying to convey to me?

I shove all the negative thoughts away for now. “I’d be happy to, Paul,” I answer. And the two of us walk along the golden stroked path railing.