Chapter 18 The Name That Did Not Burn

For three nights, Ayla dreamed of shadows that weren’t dark.

They flickered like candlelight.

Not cold. Not haunting.

Almost… comforting.

Not ghosts.

Not illusions.

Memories that hadn’t given up.

They did not show her faces.

Only shapes.

Laughter.

Long tables.

Books with pages full of handwritin...

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