ALPHA CORVIN
TWO HOURS AGO
The cell was colder than the rest of the lower level prison and I stood outside it and did not go in.
Freya loves the cold. I had told Marco when he placed her here.
Freya was at the far wall when I came down the corridor and she turned when she heard me, and for a moment I forgot what I had come down here to say.
A year. A whole year of believing she was ash and bone in a burned-out building, of carrying that around behind everything I did, and she was standing in front of me now with longer hair and new scars on her arms and she had not aged a single day.
She was still the most beautiful thing I had ever put my eyes on.
"You look—" I started.
"Different." She cut in before I could finish.
"Beautiful."
She smiled.
