It’s strange to think that only two years ago I was writing love poetry about you. If I had been told two years ago or even one year ago that I would be the one to walk away I would have thought that person was insane. But look at us now. Still in this little town and yet we couldn’t be further from each other or who we used to be. Even when I’ve had to drive past your house it feels as if we’re a world apart. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder if you feel the distance too.
Nina had grieved for her loss of power, for the connection she’d felt to the living world. She’d resented this shadow gift. It had seemed like a sham, a punishment. But just as surely as life connected everything, so did death. It was that endless, fast-running river. She’d dipped her fingers into its current, held the eddy of its power in her hand. She was the Queen of Mourning, and in its depths, she would never drown.