BOOK OF DAYS 22, 995

He walks.  The pilgrimage was made, and I was immediately greeted with the knowledge that he walks.  More?  He has embraced the gift I gave him.

The grave, we found, was empty.  I sent L. to the House to find that he has introduced himself as his own son.  This all has deep significance.

There was a time when he loathed the gift.  Were he to rise, I would have expected him to march into the sunrise, calling the name of his beloved Josette as his breath turned to ash.  But chose to move and live as a Collins once more.  If he is doing this, then he cannot be overcome with resentment for the gift.  Perhaps he sees it for what it is: proof of his superiority over other and the kiss of immortality.

Proof that I love him.  This was a curse cast in anger, but as I consider it, I see that there was a secret part of me that chose it because it would allow us to meet now.  By now, all of those distracting people are memories.

Only I remain.  “Valerie Collins.”  His wife.

But who is his sister, “Julia”?



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