Mary-Allison Flagstone
Allison reveals her last minutes on Belzaar. Fire spreads with a force of a hurricane behind it. It’s a wonder anyone survived that night—Especially a small child like Adam.
“You’re wondering how my son survived.”
“I was thinking that, yeah… “
“How many times do I have to explain, we are one, Mary. Your thoughts are mine and vice versa.”
“Yeah, super simple way of putting it.”
Allison teleports us again and we are sped to a time and place I’m familiar with. We walk down a street dressed in the Victorian time period of 1838.
“You’ve felt my pain now. You know the hurt, the guilt I carried for centuries—And you know how unbearable it was. Even with Christopher at my side, it was too much. We had separated, a fight I caused. I was too far gone, but Christopher, he stood a chance.”
We’re in an alley. Darkness falls. An autumn chill brings colorful leaves, dancing in the wind.