Aveline followed willingly.
Why would she not? This was her mother.
Her mother, whose voice had once filled the halls of Willowgrave with laughter. Her mother, whose gentle hands had braided her hair and kissed scraped knees and tucked her into bed on stormy nights. Her mother, whom she had buried in her heart ten years ago and mourned every single day since.
The warmth of her hand felt real.
Too real.
"Aren't you happy, my little girl?" her mother asked softly as she led her through the familiar corridors.
Aveline nodded immediately, wiping hastily at her tears. "I am."
Her mother smiled. The smile was exactly as Aveline remembered. Perhaps that was why she did not notice that it never quite reached her eyes.
Or perhaps she simply did not wish to notice, because for the first time in years, she was no longer alone.
"I missed you so much," Aveline whispered.
"Oh, darling," her mother said, squeezing her hand gently. "We missed you too. Every single day."
