Lost souls

Monique's head whipped towards Lydia, the movement sending a fresh wave of agony through her. "What the hell did you just say?" she demanded, her voice laced with a raw, primal fear.

Lydia's eyes welled up with tears. "Monique, I'm so sorry. Louise... she was trying to protect Sahara when Constance attacked. She didn't make it." Lydia explained softly. "The funeral was a few days ago."

A choked sob escaped Monique's lips.

Louise, her confidante, her rock, gone just like that.

Grief threatened to consume her, but the image of Sahara's tear-streaked face flashed in her mind, a silent plea for strength.

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. The two people she cared about most, gone in the blink of an eye, victims of Constance's twisted obsession.

"How long have I been here?" Monique choked out, her voice barely a whisper.

"Almost three weeks now," Lydia replied gently.

Grief, a suffocating wave, washed over Monique. The world seemed to tilt on its axis.