She waited for the mortuary assistant to draw back the sheet to reveal her father’s face. It was harder than she’d ever imagined it would be. She reached out to take Geraint’s hand. “Is this your father?” the policewoman asked. She placed a reassuring hand on Awena’s shoulder, but all Awena wanted to do was shrug it off. She didn’t need this stranger’s platitudes and false sympathy. It didn’t matter to her. None of it did. The woman was only doing her job. She was supposed to be sorry. There was no connection between them. They weren’t sisters. “Yes,” she said. “It’s him. What happened?” “All indications are that he was driving too fast in treacherous conditions and went off the side of the mountain road.” “Did he suffer?” The woman didn’t look like she wanted to answer, but she did.
What do You think about Rogue Angel 50: Celtic Fire?
