Remy lost herself to the fantasy of what a family would be like—to sit around a large dining table with loved ones and friends. Heather and Fenrin would be there, her children chasing each other around the table. She would sit with a swollen belly, her third child, and her husband would rest a warm hand on it and beam at her with happiness. She knew that husband’s face, though she dare not admit it to herself. They would laugh and eat until the candles burned out.
