This moment was for just her and me, the taste of roses in my mouth, the magic rioting under my skin. When I finally made it to the burial chamber, tears pricked the corners of my eyes. The objects and artifacts glinted gold from the light of the soft flame of my candle. I didn’t want to forget any of the details, but more important, I didn’t want to forget what it felt like to have found her. I’m glad she rested with her family. Glad, too, that everything that had been provided for her journey through the underworld was accounted for and recorded. Years from now, Abdullah’s careful recordings
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