Lost Creek Hollow plurimi

For Aquillius, existing had suddenly become a chore.

And nothing refuted his claim to bad luck in his footsteps. In fact, what he knew now only solidified it.

Doedapple had been absent from his life for several weeks. He had learned she’d grown gravely ill.

He’d learned she’d lost the child she carried.

It rankled in his chest.

When he came, it was with red rimmed eyes and dark shadows that spoke to too many sleepless nights and too long holding tears back with extreme force. He looked dejected, he looked ill at heart, haunted by the black magic that had touched his heart and his mind.

Father. He tried to arrange himself into the stand of a soldier, but only succeeded in getting his feet together before he was wobbling and had to widen his stance all over again.