[ He goes as still as she as the footsteps go past, both of them almost like statues in their compartment - and somehow he's noticing it for the first time, these reactions he's had for months before his death. What he became, he thinks, was a hunted man among his allies, in his own house.
Maybe death was where happiness could be had. Maybe Bella is right.
His smile is slight, but a bit more real. ]
I don't think we could have, on the other side of the veil. But maybe we can have it here?
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Maybe death was where happiness could be had. Maybe Bella is right.
His smile is slight, but a bit more real. ]
I don't think we could have, on the other side of the veil. But maybe we can have it here?