Diva Season

She searches her memory, tries to remember any signs of sickness. The cough that lingered in his chest, the shadow of weakness in his limbs. The memories from her second life are trapped in amber, perfectly preserved. But the ones from before when she was Adeline LaRue memories of kneading bread on a stool beside her mother of watching her father carve faces into blocks of wood of trailing Estelle through the shadows the shallows of the sarthe those are fading. The twenty three years she lived before the woods before the deal worn to little more than edges.