Present time…
Azrael glanced at the water bowl placed at the center by one guard. With a stammered balance, she went up to it to take a sip.
"Oh, poor Azrael!" Helena gasped dramatically. Azrael looked at the image of Helena forming on the water—same look, same way of talking, and an annoying reminder.
"Look at you; you must be in so much pain," Helena remarked, her voice filled with sarcasm and mockery.
Azrael closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in, in an attempt to walk back to her bed.
"If only you had been the sweet lamb you were supposed to be, none of this would be happening," Helena continued.
Azrael stopped in her tracks, glancing back at the bowl. A smile bloomed on Azrael's lips. "You and your delusions."
The smile on Helena's face turned sour at Azrael's words. She was just an illusion—a reminder of the past. She should get on Azrael's nerves, torture her soul.
