BLOODY THRONE
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Rosy fell backwards into the bed, collapsing spread-eagled on the bed, tears already welling up in her eyes.
I wonder how Luca is. She thought absentmindedly to herself.
Her outstretched fingers grazed something, and she looked at it to see what it was.
A book.
That wasn’t there before, she thought, sitting up and retrieving the book from between the throw pillows.
The book in her hands, she flipped through its yellowish pages, shocked to discover it was the children's book she had with her when she was dumped on the orphanage steps. It wasn't just a copy, it was exactly the same.
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