• Vol. 02
  • Chapter 12
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“So it’s a fixer-upper” Ardal affirmed, “but look at the view of the city.”

Laura glared as best she could. Things had happened which faded her customary expression of displeasure to a mere shadow of what they had been.

“How…? Who–?”

“Oh I’m sure you can work that out if you think about it, love. Look, I’ll tidy this to a veritable palace.”

“Veritable palace, eh?” She laughed and felt the more solid for it. She’d felt she’d been fading away since…since when? A confused frown furrowed her pale brow.

He noticed and engulfed her. “None of that now, and sure we’ll only be here for a while until we get sorted for the new home.” He surveyed the wreckage and surreptitiously turned her away from the charred remains of a cradle.

After a while, he carried her to the chassis of his favourite chair and did a fair impression of sitting on it, clasping her to his insubstantial chest as sobs indicated her returning memory, temporarily dashed against the cliffs of trauma.

“What about our baby?” she wept into him.


He managed a smile which might well have been seen by the living. “Oh, Sorcha’s already there, love.” Infants got a free pass.

They sat among the ashes of their apartment, sucking up the memories from the detritus, and waited for the call.