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TWENTY EIGHT
LILY’s POV
I am holding onto one of the most important persons in my life right now. My sister, my Rose is here. It feels so surreal, so much so I feel like pinching myself just to make sure that this is not merely a beautiful dream.
I pull back to take a good look at her, my fingers caressing every inch of her face, taking in the structure of her cheekbones, the bridge of her nose, the fullness of her lips….and I let out a pent up exhalation. She is slightly thinner than the last time I saw her but otherwise, she appears to be fine. With a quivering hand, I brush back the strands of her golden blonde hair and smile through my tears. This is real, this is not a dream so it’s okay to cry. I can cry happy tears, tears of joy are allowed.
Then my gaze trails down to her bloodied dress and a frown immediately skirts across my face. Is she hurt? Reading my thoughts, she points to the fallen man behind us. A dead man lays on his side with hi
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