It was a connection to the past, a monument to history. Even after the effects of the blast, Trinity as a whole had endured. However, so much had been blown to pieces. The sculptures that had been on display in the middle of what had once been a grassy square had been destroyed; their parts scattered and covered with dirt and shrapnel. She watched a clean-up crew as they worked diligently to remove the debris. She allowed the sounds of the city to fade into the background as she tried to concentrate on something, a feeling she was getting from underground. A familiar and welcome voice at Frankie’s back made her turn and smile, “Fiona,” she said softly. “Frankie!” Fiona reached for her hands and shook them, “Ye need to check yer emails and give me yer cell number.” Fiona clucked her tongue, “I have been trying to get in touch with ye and make certain ye were alright.” Frankie sighed and took a step out of the way of one of the workers loading up a large wheelbarrow with debris.
