“Have you ever wished the dead could come back? Even for a fleeting moment so you could feel them in your arms? Tell them how much they meant to you?” “Yes.” For a hundred phases, I looked upon Slátra’s moon and wished for her to bring Elluin back to me. Begged the Creators, too. Just another dimpled smile. Another touch. Another kiss upon my lids. Anything. She releases a shuddered breath. “I’m not back—not really. Much as I’d like to be . . . that.” Her. Elluin. Weaving her fingers through mine, she lifts my hand. I open my eyes. Watch her use our fingers to sketch the shape of the rounded
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