Chapter 18 The Girl I Can't Remember
- The dream dissipated—waning concentration, waning light, the light, the scented sweet lavender scent of sweet things. A girl.
- Not Jessie.
- She'd worn blonde hair, golden rain-drenched curls curled at their tips. Blue eyes, hopeful and kind. She'd've been standing barefoot on wet stone, moonlight casting on the glow of her cheeks, arm outstretched as if she'd stood forever.