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She woke with a gasp, air rushing into her lungs, filling them to bursting as she choked back to life. The air surrounding her was cold, chilled. Night had fallen and the dark was filled with silence.
Her mind was fuzzy, blocked. Yet a knowing nudged at her mind, tickling the edges of her memory.
Sorenti’s eyes adjusted in the moonlight and she felt something dry and tacky upon her skin. She raised a hand in the lowering night. Dark stains marred her flesh, the white of her dress, the crown of flowers crushed at her feet.
Images flashed through her mind, hard and brutal, slamming back into her consciousness.
Her mother’s gown. Her father’s goodbye. Her sisters twisting her hair upon her head, Jarrah.
He killed her.
She looked down once more to the blood stained dress, then to the body…
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