the field where I died
The young woman standing in Grant Park truly can't shake the feeling that she's been here before. Her surroundings are uncomfortably familiar, each tree, bush, and sidewalk block etched into memories that don't belong in her mind, and when she turns her brown eyes to focus on one particular spot, she looks as though she may be ill.
There's no marker there, not that she expected there'd be-she may later find out that what was once there was later washed away in the flood-but she still knows exactly where to go, how many steps to take before she reaches the spot where a crucifix stood only a few months ago.
She shudders and covers her mouth, eyes briefly watering before she turns away in disgust.
When she leaves the park, she does so with a slight limp, hands clenched painfully at her sides.
Phantom pains, she tells herself. Literally.
Her next stop is empty plot of land that once housed the Conrad. She lingers there only briefly, scanning the emptiness with a soft sigh that draws no attention.
(Should she draw any unwanted attention, she's ready; Dan left behind a collection of weapons. Dani's packing heat.)
When she finally finds herself passing through the doors of the Kashtta, she immediately pulls her journal out of her messenger bag and scribbles a note. She then sets off in the direction of the piano room, takes a seat at the bench, and brushes her fingers over the keys. Nothing more.
There's no marker there, not that she expected there'd be-she may later find out that what was once there was later washed away in the flood-but she still knows exactly where to go, how many steps to take before she reaches the spot where a crucifix stood only a few months ago.
She shudders and covers her mouth, eyes briefly watering before she turns away in disgust.
When she leaves the park, she does so with a slight limp, hands clenched painfully at her sides.
Phantom pains, she tells herself. Literally.
Her next stop is empty plot of land that once housed the Conrad. She lingers there only briefly, scanning the emptiness with a soft sigh that draws no attention.
(Should she draw any unwanted attention, she's ready; Dan left behind a collection of weapons. Dani's packing heat.)
When she finally finds herself passing through the doors of the Kashtta, she immediately pulls her journal out of her messenger bag and scribbles a note. She then sets off in the direction of the piano room, takes a seat at the bench, and brushes her fingers over the keys. Nothing more.