A voice like heather on the hills and dusk over the lake spoke to her, over and over again in her ear. Like a chant. A ritual. A prayer, maybe. It stopped the pain. “Outlive me. Please outlive me. I love you too much.” She strained, trying to see the face of the person whom she knew she loved, to take it in one last time. But then her vision slipped away and there was only a curl of black smoke and the smell of things long dead.
