"Then what are you?" Lyvana's voice cracked. "A ghost? A trick? How are you even here?"
"Not everything can be explained so easily, my love," she said quietly.
Lyvana reached out with trembling fingers, but stopped just short of touching her mother's hand.
"I'm having a nightmare, obviously. Or I'm losing my mind."
"When you were little, you were especially clingy to me. Wherever I went, you followed. You had to hold my finger to fall asleep."
She let out a low laugh, a sound filled with the tenderness of memory.
"Once, I went out to stock up on goods and came back late. You cried your heart out. Your father couldn't calm you down no matter how hard he tried. But the moment I came back and held you, you stopped immediately, and you fell asleep in my arms."
"Mom..." she breathed, her voice cracking as she started to cry. "If you're real," Lyvana whispered, tears spilling faster now, "then why now? Why after all these years of silence?"
