In February, Aldoria had its last snowfall of spring.
The snow lay three centimeters thick, crunching underfoot.
Nina Donovan arrived, stepping through the snow, and entered the cemetery in the northern suburbs of Aldoria. She was bundled up warmly, her nose tinged red from the cold.
She stopped before a headstone already adorned with an array of fresh flowers. Nina Donovan bent down, placing the white chrysanthemums she carried as close as she could to Zane Wyatt's portrait.
Straightening up, her gaze fell upon the radiantly smiling face on the headstone.
His portrait was in color. The flash of his red hair was so vibrant it was as if he had never left.
The corners of Nina Donovan's mouth lifted in a gentle smile. "Zane Wyatt, Happy New Year. Renee Stone is dead, and Isaac Huxley is in prison. Are you happy, on the other side?"
Her voice was a murmur, scattering into the wind.
She took a deep breath, and in an instant, her eyes grew red.
