“It had been years and it was impossible but still. That evening, strolling between the long shadows of the trees, she heard that voice.
The howling wind should have covered it, but this was no ordinary voice. It was coming from between the light and the dark, from between surface and matter, from beyond sound.
It was her voice.
At that moment, it became nauseatingly clear to Sophie that no matter how far she went, how long she waited, how much she changed, she could never outrun it.”

Anne of Maumesnil, Prose from the Path


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