s pa

memory. Mara wandered its halls like a ghost, touching thin

etimes, in the stillness, she'd feel a tug in her chest -

t mattered, only that it did. Beneath its branches, the wind a

nd a folded note tuc

ember for both of us. If love is str

her heart and wept, tho

t sometimes, Mara would dream of eyes she'd neve

- and a feeling that someone, somewher

go

ut of