《Catherine's Song》


 Catherines Song

    The wind carries a gentle hum through the mountain air, weaving between the pine trees and across the narrow stone path. It is almost like a song, like the notes of a melody long forgotten.


    Julius hums along to it, his boots scuffing softly against the dirt. The climb is steep, but he doesn¡¯t mind. The effort, the ache in his legs, the chill of the evening breeze it makes him feel alive. And he likes that. He likes feeling here.


    He pauses at the edge of a cliff, overlooking the valley bathed in golden twilight. The world below seems so distant, so small, and for a moment, he forgets about the weight in his chest. Then, a familiar warmth brushes against his hand.


    ¡°Catherine,¡± he whispers, his breath catching.


    She stands beside him, her fingers curling around his own. Her touch is so soft, so real. A small smile tugs at her lips, her eyes gleaming like the first stars peeking through the sky.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°You always loved this place,¡± she murmurs, tilting her head toward the horizon. ¡°Still chasing the last light?¡±


    Julius swallows, blinking rapidly. ¡°It feels like I could catch it, if I just reached far enough.¡±


    Catherine laughs, the sound like wind chimes in the evening air. It fills his chest, makes him feel whole. "Then keep reaching," she says, her voice carrying a warmth that lingers.


    For a while, they stand together, watching the sun sink below the mountains, painting the sky in hues of violet and amber. Julius squeezes her hand, grounding himself in the moment, in her presence. He wants to stay like this forever. But somewhere, deep down, he knows.


    He is alone.


    The warmth fades, and the weight in his chest returns, heavier than before. His fingers grasp at the empty space where hers had been, but there is nothing. Just the wind. Just the mountain.


    A deep shuddering breath wracks his frame, and he closes his eyes, willing her back. Sometimes she stays longer. Sometimes she disappears in the middle of a sentence. And sometimes, she doesn¡¯t come at all.


    But when the silence becomes too much to bear, he hums. A quiet tune, one they used to sing together. The mountain hums with him, carrying the song far beyond the valley. And somewhere in the wind, he swears he hears her voice, singing along.

 Fragmented Echoes

    Julius made his way down the mountain trail, the last embers of twilight fading behind the peaks. The descent was slower than the climb, not because of the steepness, but because he didn¡¯t want to leave. The mountain hummed with memories, with her presence. But the further he walked, the quieter it became.


    By the time he reached the valley, darkness had fully settled, blanketing the land in deep blues and grays. His cottage stood alone in the clearing, the small wooden structure barely illuminated by the pale glow of the crescent moon. It was a humble place, one he and Catherine had built together¡ªwarm, sturdy, filled with echoes of laughter that had long since faded into dust.


    Julius stepped inside, the door creaking softly as he shut it behind him. The air was still, heavy, untouched. His footsteps on the wooden floor felt too loud, breaking the silence in a way that felt almost intrusive. He set his pack down by the door, his fingers lingering over the worn leather strap as he turned his head slightly, listening.


    Nothing.


    No voice. No faint laughter. No warmth curling around his fingers.


    He exhaled, slow and careful, as if the act of breathing might disturb something unseen. His fingers twitched at his sides, aching to reach for her, to feel even the illusion of her touch. But the house remained empty.


    He walked to the small table near the window, pulling out a chair and lowering himself into it with the weight of someone far older than his years. His gaze drifted toward the fireplace¡ªcold, unlit. They used to sit here together, Catherine curled against him, humming the same tune the wind carried through the mountains. He could almost hear it now. Almost.


    But that was all it ever was. Almost.


    He hated this. Hated how the quiet gnawed at him. Hated how he sat in this house, waiting for something that wasn¡¯t real. But more than that, he hated how much he wished it would return.


    Julius had once feared his mind¡¯s decline, had fought against the whispers and visions. But now¡­ now he wished they would come more often. He wished his mind would shatter completely if it meant seeing her again, feeling her presence just a little longer. The loneliness was worse than the madness. The silence was worse than the lies his mind conjured.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    He sat there for what felt like hours, unmoving, staring at the empty space across from him where Catherine should have been. But the night stretched on, indifferent and unyielding. The wind outside had stopped its song. No footsteps echoed across the floor. No ghostly touch brushed against his hand.


    For the first time in a long time, she did not come.


    Julius swallowed hard, his throat tight, his hands curling into fists on the table. He had spent so long fearing the weight of his own mind, but tonight, for the first time, he realized something far worse than seeing things that weren¡¯t there.


    It was knowing, with absolute certainty, that he was alone.


    His trembling fingers reached into the drawer beneath the table, pulling out a small, weathered notebook. He flipped it open, his eyes scanning the careful notes he had written over the years¡ªeach encounter with Catherine, each conversation, each fleeting moment of warmth. He had logged them all, as if writing them down would make them real.


    But as he turned the pages, he noticed something that made his breath hitch. The entries had grown sparse. Where once he had written of her visits every few nights, now weeks had passed between them. He traced the ink with unsteady fingers, his vision blurring as realization settled like a stone in his gut.


    She was fading. Or maybe¡­ he was healing.


    A ragged sob tore from his throat, and he pressed a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking. He should have wanted this, should have welcomed the clarity of a mind no longer haunted. But all he could think about was the day when there would be no more entries to write, no more glimpses of her smile, no more echoes of her voice in the wind.


    One day, she would be gone for good.


    And that, more than anything, was what truly broke him.


    Julius tried his best to log the entry of what had happened on the mountain today, but his tears stained the page. He slid the book forward to avoid ruining the already tattered quality, but his hands shook, his breathing uneven. Droplets struck the wooden table, his vision blurred, his chest tight. The silence around him pressed in, suffocating, vast.


    Then a knock at the door.


    His heart lurched. He jolted from his chair, barely aware of the movement, his mind clinging desperately to the possibility, the hope. Another vision? Catherine? Please.


    He threw the door open, breathless.


    But the woman standing there was not Catherine.


    Her hair was not dark but a soft shade of ginger, strands catching the moonlight. Her eyes were not the familiar blue he ached for, but a striking jade, flecked with warmth. Freckles dusted her pale skin, and she smiled, a bright, genuine thing that made him freeze in place. In her hands, she held a small basket, its contents hidden beneath a cloth.


    "Hello," she said, her voice light, easy. "I¡¯m Stella. May I come in? You look like you need some company, Julius."

 A Name That Wouldn鈥檛 Fade

    Julius hesitated his fingers tightening on the wooden door as he studied the woman before him. She stood patiently, her posture relaxed but her eyes carrying something unspoken, something unsettlingly familiar. He should turn her away there was no reason to let a stranger into his home. And yet, he didn¡¯t.


    "Come in," he said, the words heavier than they should have been.


    Stella stepped inside, her movements gentle as she took in the modest interior. Julius followed her in, his gaze catching on the woven basket she clutched at her side. The deep red wood was unmistakable, Oathwood, a tree that only grew in the western reaches of the Aurelian Kingdom. Its bark was known to be rich as wine, streaked with veins of black, a wood prized by artisans for its durability. It was a rare sight this far east, and certainly not something one would casually carry.


    His frown deepened. That, paired with her dress, a style unlike the simple garments of the village, marked her as a foreigner. So why did she act as though she belonged?


    They sat in silence for a moment, the crackling of the fireplace filling the space between them. Julius studied her, trying to place what about her presence left him so uneasy. It wasn¡¯t fear. It wasn¡¯t suspicion. It was something else. Something he didn¡¯t want to name.


    She turned to him slowly, her hands gripping her basket that rested on her lap as though steadying herself. "Was I right?" she asked, her voice quiet but firm. "Is your name Julius?"


    His stomach twisted. "...Yes."


    A flicker of something, relief maybe, crossed her face. "I thought so," she murmured, her fingers loosening. "It felt right when I said it. But I wasn¡¯t sure."


    Julius¡¯s throat was dry. "What do you mean? you knew my name but you didn''t know if you was correct?" trying to make sense of the confusing situation.


    She hesitated, as if searching for the words. "I was just a normal girl," she began. "I lived in Aurelian my whole life. My family was nothing special, just merchants. I never had any reason to leave." She looked down, as though the memory itself was distant now. "But then I had a dream. I don¡¯t remember all of it, just flashes, feelings. A pull toward something, toward someone."The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    She exhaled slowly. "And when I woke up, I wasn¡¯t the same. The world didn¡¯t feel the same. I knew I had to travel, though I didn¡¯t know why. I just walked. The feeling grew stronger, guiding me. And now, I¡¯m here."


    Julius stared at her, Every word she spoke only deepened the unease curling in his chest. He wanted to believe it was nonsense, just the ramblings of a girl lost in a fantasy. But the way she looked at him, the way she said his name, the way her very presence twisted something inside of him,


    It wasn¡¯t nonsense.


    He swallowed. "And you don¡¯t know why..."


    She shook her head. "No. Only that I was meant to find someone named julius... that names echoed in my head since that dream and only now that im here, sat across the table from you has it stopped repeating itself"


    Julius exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. He should send her away. This was madness. But he didn¡¯t move.


    Because for the first time since Catherine¡¯s death, he felt something other than grief.


    And that terrified him.


    Julius leaned forward slightly, his voice cautious. "This dream¡­ when was it? Do you remember the exact day?"


    Stella furrowed her brow, thinking. "It was¡­ six months ago. I remember because when I woke, the air felt different. It was the first night of the Harvest Moon."


    His breath caught in his throat. The Harvest Moon. That was the night Catherine had died.


    Julius felt cold, his fingers curling into his palms as the weight of her words settled over him. It was impossible coincidence, surely. And yet, his mind rebelled against reason, whispering that there was something more at play.


    "You¡¯ve been traveling for six months," he said, more to himself than to her.


    She nodded. "Yes. The moment I woke from that dream, I started walking."


    Julius swallowed hard, His heart begged him to ask the question he feared most but he refused.


    Who had she been before that night?


    And who was she now?


    Julius glanced around the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of Catherine, as if her presence might somehow ease the suffocating weight of this moment. But the room was empty just the familiar walls, the worn furniture, the memories. His gaze slowly drifted back to Stella, who sat across the table, watching him with an unreadable expression.


    ¡°My wife¡­ she died on the same day you had this dream¡­¡± His voice faltered, thick with grief, barely a whisper as it hung between them.


    The words had hardly left his lips when Stella spoke, her voice soft, almost detached. ¡°Catherine?¡±


    Julius froze, the name spoken by a stranger causing his heart to stumble in his chest. He had not mentioned her. How could she possibly know?


    Stella remained still, her gaze fixed on him, her head tilting ever so slightly. A chilling silence stretched between them before a sound, soft yet haunting, filled the room. It should have been calming, soothing even, but it instead tightened Julius¡¯s chest, making his breath catch in his throat.


    Stella began to hum.

 Shadows in the Melody

    Humming.


    It was the same song the very melody he and Catherine had created together, the one that had once filled their home with warmth and love. But now, hearing it from the lips of this stranger, it felt like a ghost, twisting the joy of the tune into something dark and mournful.


    Julius¡¯s hands shook, his pulse quickening. His mind raced to understand, to reconcile the impossible. How could she know that song? How could she know Catherine?


    The air grew heavier with the eerie sound, each note digging deeper into his grief, pulling him back into memories of the life he had lost. And yet, in the midst of the haunting hum, a single thought stood out, clear as glass: Was this some cruel illusion, or was Catherine somehow still here?


    Julius scanned the room once more, his eyes desperately searching for any sign of Catherine, but she was nowhere to be found. The room remained unchanged, cold and empty. Stella, however, was still there, humming that haunting melody, her soft smile never fading. The song filled the space between them, pulling him deeper into the ache of loss.


    Suddenly, as if some invisible force snapped inside him, Julius lunged forward. His hands gripped Stella¡¯s shoulders, the action fueled by a sudden, overwhelming desperation. Stella let out a startled scream, her body jerking in fear as she flinched away, convinced he was about to strike. The song stopped abruptly, the room falling into a tense silence, save for the frantic sound of Stella¡¯s ragged breaths.


    She looked at him, wide-eyed and trembling, her gaze flickering between confusion and fear. Julius held her shoulders tightly, his tear-filled eyes searching hers, as if trying to find some clue to unravel this strange, painful riddle. The realization hit him like a wave¡ªthis wasn¡¯t some cruel illusion. Stella was real, she was here. And that truth only deepened the gnawing discomfort inside him.


    He released her abruptly, stumbling back into his seat in embarrassment, his breath heavy with the weight of what had just happened. His hands trembled, unable to escape the sharp sting of humiliation. He had thought she was a figment of his mind, another cruel trick of grief, but she wasn¡¯t. She was here, and the presence of her warmth only made the mystery more unbearable.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°I... I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said, her words hesitant, as though she was unsure of their weight. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to startle you. The song... it just... came to me.¡± She paused, looking down at her hands, as if searching for the right words to explain the inexplicable.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know what it was, or why it felt so familiar,¡± she continued, her voice softer now, almost apologetic. ¡°It just... it felt right. My body acted on its own, like something was guiding me, telling me it would help you.¡±


    She looked up then, her gaze searching his face, as if seeking understanding. ¡°I didn¡¯t know the song you and your wife made together. I promise, I had no intention of invoking anything painful.¡±


    Julius stared at her, his heart pounding in his chest. The hum of the melody echoed in his mind, the warmth of Catherine¡¯s memory flooding back in waves, but there was no malice in Stella¡¯s words¡ªonly an innocence, a kind of confused sincerity.


    It was a strange comfort, even in the face of such confusion. Stella wasn¡¯t an enemy. She wasn¡¯t trying to hurt him. She was just... acting on a pull she didn¡¯t understand.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to make you think I was attacking,¡± Julius said, his voice thick with emotion. ¡°I thought you were a ghost, a trick of my mind. I... I thought Catherine was still here. I didn¡¯t expect this.¡±


    Stella nodded gently, her eyes softening as she reached out, her hand hovering for a moment before resting on his arm in a quiet gesture of reassurance.


    ¡°I understand,¡± she said simply, her voice quiet but earnest. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to add to your pain, Julius. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Julius wiped his eyes, a shaky breath escaping him as he nodded, his voice soft but sincere. ¡°It¡¯s... it¡¯s okay, Stella. You didn¡¯t know.¡± He stood up slowly, his legs unsteady as if the weight of the moment still pressed down on him.


    ¡°You¡¯ve walked such a long way,¡± he continued, his voice carrying a warmth, even in the midst of the tension. ¡°You can have my bed for the night. I¡¯ll sleep on the couch.¡±


    He gave her a faint, apologetic smile, trying to offer some small measure of comfort. His home was hers for as long as she needed, even if it felt like everything else in his world had shattered.


    Stella looked up at him, her expression softening with quiet gratitude. ¡°Are you sure?¡± she asked, hesitating for a moment, still unsure of how to navigate the strange space between them.


    Julius nodded firmly, brushing off the discomfort of the situation. ¡°It¡¯s fine. You need rest. I¡¯ll be alright.¡±


    With that, he moved to gather the few things he needed for the night, leaving the space for her to settle in. His mind still swirled with questions, but for now, he would offer her the hospitality that had always been part of him, even if he wasn¡¯t entirely sure what tomorrow would bring.

 In the Quiet of the Morning

    Julius woke, the dim light of morning filtering through the old curtains. His back ached from sleeping on the couch, a sharp contrast to the comfort of his own bed. But he had given that to Stella for the night. For a brief moment, he forgot she was even there. The house was quiet, warm, peaceful in a way it hadn''t been for months.


    Then he smelled something.


    Rich, something warm. Something achingly familiar.


    Sitting up slowly, he followed the scent into the kitchen. And there, set neatly on the table, was a meal he hadn¡¯t seen in half a year.


    Eggs cooked just the way he liked them, toast cut into neat triangles, and beside it all, a steaming cup of tea. Not just any tea. The special blend Catherine used to make for him when he struggled to sleep. The same blend that no one else in this village even knew about.


    His fingers clenched at his sides.


    Stella turned from where she stood at the stove, smiling brightly. "Oh, you¡¯re up! I wasn¡¯t sure what you liked, but this just felt... right."


    Julius could barely hear her over the pounding in his chest. His vision swam, his mind racing between grief and disbelief. He didn¡¯t know whether to sit down or run.


    Seeing his distress, Stella stepped forward, her expression softening. "Julius? Are you alright?"


    He opened his mouth, but no words came. His breath was uneven, his hands trembling slightly at his sides. She noticed.


    Without hesitation, she reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "Whatever this is, whatever you¡¯re going through, you don¡¯t have to face it alone. I don¡¯t know why I was led here, but I know that I want to help you."Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Her voice was steady, filled with a sincerity that made his chest tighten. Julius swallowed hard, the turmoil inside him still raging, but her presence... it was grounding, even if it was confusing. He didn¡¯t know if he could trust her, didn¡¯t know if he could trust himself. But for now, he nodded, sinking into the chair before him.


    For the first time in months, the silence in the house didn¡¯t feel so heavy.


    After finishing breakfast, Julius quietly excused himself, muttering something about needing a moment. Stepping outside, he let the crisp morning air fill his lungs as he made his way toward the river. He wasn¡¯t expecting anything. He knew she wouldn¡¯t appear. And yet, some part of him still hoped.


    The river¡¯s surface shimmered under the pale sky, the water running smoothly over polished stones. The trees whispered with the wind, their golden leaves swaying gently contrasting with the snow that covered them partly. He took it all in, grounding himself in the quiet moment.


    Then, just as he turned to leave, he felt it. The shift in the air. The warmth at his side.


    "You always loved coming here," Catherine¡¯s voice rang, light as the wind.


    His breath caught, his eyes snapping toward her. There she was, standing beside him, just as she always did, her presence radiant and full of warmth.


    "Catherine..." he whispered, his voice trembling.


    She smiled, her gaze soft as she looked at him. "You met someone."


    Julius swallowed, guilt twisting in his stomach. "Stella. She... she found me. I don¡¯t understand it, but she did. And she... she remembers things she shouldn¡¯t. things about you and me memories we shared together."


    Catherine tilted her head, watching him closely. "Then maybe she was meant to find you."


    His throat tightened. "But what if... what if I lose you? If I let her stay, if I move on, what happens to you?"


    Catherine¡¯s expression didn¡¯t waver. She reached for his hand, her touch as warm as the sunlight. "You won¡¯t lose me, Julius. I¡¯ll always be here. But maybe... maybe Stella is here for a reason. Don¡¯t be afraid to let her in."


    He blinked, and just like that, she was gone.


    The river continued to flow, the trees still swayed, but the warmth was gone. Only the wind remained.


    Julius let out a shaky breath, wiping at his eyes before turning back toward home.

 Threads of Fate

    Julius returned home as dusk settled over the village, the river¡¯s song still echoing in his ears. The weight in his chest, though not gone, felt lighter. For the first time in months, he felt as though he could breathe without his grief crushing him entirely. Catherine''s words lingered in his mind, her gentle reassurance that he did not need to feel guilty. That perhaps Stella¡¯s arrival was not something to fear, but something meant to be.


    As he stepped inside, the warmth of the house welcomed him, carrying the faint scent of tea and the last remnants of their morning meal. Stella sat at the table, idly running her fingers over the grain of the wood, her expression distant. She looked up as he entered, her face softening.


    "You''re back," she said, offering a small smile.


    Julius nodded, feeling an odd sense of familiarity in the way she looked at him. Not just recognition, but something deeper, something he couldn¡¯t name. He hesitated before sitting across from her.


    For a few moments, there was only silence, comfortable in a way he hadn¡¯t expected. Then Stella spoke.


    "I feel like I was meant to come here," she admitted, tracing small patterns on the tabletop. "Not just because of the dream... but because when I¡¯m here, I feel... right."


    Julius studied her, his mind still turning over everything that had happened. ¡°Stella,¡± he began, his voice low, careful, ¡°back at the river, I saw Catherine.¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Her fingers stilled. She didn''t look surprised, only curious. ¡°You did?¡±


    He nodded, exhaling. ¡°She told me not to feel bad about moving forward. That... maybe you being here is something good.¡±


    A silence stretched between them, thoughtful and uncertain. Stella shifted slightly, her brows drawing together. ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s happening to me, Julius,¡± she murmured. ¡°Since I left Aurelian, things have felt different. And now, I find myself knowing things I shouldn¡¯t.¡±


    Julius straightened slightly letting out a sigh in response not knowing just how much stella knew.


    She hesitated, then gave a small laugh, though there was no humor in it. ¡°Like how you take your tea. Like the way you always pause before stepping into a room, as if you¡¯re bracing yourself. Like how I knew where to find the extra blankets last night, even though you never told me.¡±


    Julius felt a chill run down his spine. He had noticed some of those things before, but hearing them aloud sent a shiver of unease through him.


    Stella pressed a hand to her chest. ¡°Sometimes, I feel memories that aren¡¯t mine. I try to recall my life before I left, and it¡¯s... fading. But when I think of you, of this house, of Catherine¡± Her breath hitched. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t know these things, but I do.¡±


    Julius¡¯s hands curled into fists atop the table, his mind racing. Could it be possible? Could Catherine have somehow¡­ merged with Stella? Had fate itself intervened, weaving the two together in some way neither of them could understand?


    Swallowing hard, he reached out, his fingers brushing against hers. ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s happening either,¡± he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. ¡°But you¡¯re not alone in this. We¡¯ll figure it out together.¡±


    Stella met his gaze, and for a moment, Julius swore he saw something flicker behind her eyes something warm, something painfully familiar. A bond neither of them had asked for, but one that had entwined their fates nonetheless.


    Whatever had brought them together, it was only just beginning.

 Hollow Eyes, Stolen Soul

    The sun hung low in the sky, painting the horizon in hues of gold and crimson. Julius sat on the porch, watching the world settle into dusk, his fingers loosely curled around a cup of tea her tea. He didn¡¯t even remember when she had started making it for him every evening. It was just how things were now. The life they had built together, the routines they followed, the warmth of her presence beside him.


    Stella sat next to him, but when he turned to look at her, the name felt like a lie.


    Her hair, once a brilliant shade of ginger, had deepened over the past year into the same dark locks Catherine had. The freckles that once dotted her pale skin had faded, her features shifting, subtly at first, but now unmistakable. Her eyes, once a vibrant green, were now the same deep shade as Catherine¡¯s had been. The same eyes that had once looked at him with love, with sorrow, with guilt. And though Stella still smiled, still spoke with warmth, Julius felt as if he were watching a painting come to life in slow, careful strokes an old image taking shape beneath a new one.


    She didn¡¯t remember arriving here. That, too, had faded. When he asked about it, she only tilted her head in quiet confusion, as if it were some distant dream she had long since forgotten. ¡°I¡¯ve always been here,¡± she had said once, and he had forced himself to nod, a tightness clung around his throat.


    But she hadn¡¯t.


    The woman sitting next to him was not the same girl who had once knocked on his door, lost and uncertain. She was someone else now. Or rather someone he had buried.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Julius clenched his teeth, gripping his cup until his knuckles went white. A curse. That was the only answer that made sense. Catherine had done something before she died. Something unnatural. Something selfish. She had not accepted death, had not let him grieve her in peace. Instead, she had returned, creeping back into his life under a new name, a new form, stripping away the woman Stella had been, piece by piece.


    And yet, even as he resented her, he could not turn her away.


    Stella. Catherine. whoever she was, she still sat beside him, still touched his hand when he grew quiet, still pressed her forehead to his when nightmares took hold of him in the night. She still made him breakfast in the mornings, still laughed at his dry humor, still knew exactly how he liked his tea.


    And Julius, for all his hatred, could not bring himself to push her away.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Her voice was soft, filled with concern, and for a moment, it almost sounded like Stella again. But when he met her gaze, the illusion shattered.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he muttered.


    She reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his, and he felt his stomach twist. He should have let her go long ago. Should have walked away, should have broken whatever spell tethered her soul to stella. But he hadn¡¯t.


    Because deep down, despite everything, he wasn¡¯t sure if he could live without her. Even if he felt anger towards Catherine for what she had done.


    As the sun dipped below the trees, the wind whispered through the leaves, carrying a voice he thought he¡¯d never hear again.


    A voice that had never left him.


    "Julius"


    Catherine''s voice hummed through the wind almost sounding sinister as her hand held his tighter a sweet smile across her face that felt like a lie.


    ¡°Did you miss me?¡±