Hushed Willows But I make no plans and none can be broken

She had known. How could she not? Boone's absence hung heavily in the air each moment, unspoken but felt all the same. The words took the breath from her lungs nonetheless. Boone was gone. Gone in a flurry of blood, and he would not come back.

Reverie laughed. The sound was raw and hysterical, tapering into a breathless sob. Her head dropped, mouth pressed against her forelegs to stifle her cries. Was she a widow then? That thought had her bursting back into humorless laughter.

She felt as if she were falling, tumbling from some great height into endless dark. No way to catch herself; nothing but open air. He was gone.