43. Zeke

Freya has taken my breath away a fair few times. This one rocked me to my bones. My beautiful girl stands statue-like in the centre of the room with her back to me. Hidden by shadows, her chocolate curls tumble down past her shoulders, a tattered, shitty pink silk slip barely covering her. The only part of her moving were her trembling, furled hands as they gripped the hem of the slip by her hips.

On the floor lies Phillipe. Not moving and getting greyer every second. Lighting the room was the dull, reddish glow of the blood moon.

I scramble to my feet and fumblingly try to understand the darkly frozen scene before me. Snapping back into life Freya quickly takes off the ring and throws it down onto his lifeless body before breathing quickly, so rapid and ragged she might be falling into a panic attack..

/Softly, remember how we hurt Finn./

“Freya, I’m here.”

“I know,” she whispered back, her voice breaking. “Don’t look at me,”

Slowly I take another step forward but the crunching