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The Romanov Diary
Category: Historical
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes.
She had not expected to see him again, not after all these years.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The train pulled out of the station with a long, mournful whistle.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
The fire had burned down to embers, but neither of them moved to stoke it.
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The end.