Reluctantly, Caitlin began to gather up reams of paper and carry them to the fireplace. Her notebooks she hesitated over. She had collected a tremendous amount of folklore, beautiful stories really, along with scientific data. She hated to lose them. Taking a huge breath, she tossed them into the hearth as well and threw a match in after them.
She had to fight back tears. They seemed to burn her eyes and clog her throat until it was nearly impossible to breathe. And she knew it wasn't just losing the papers; it was Zendedari's absence from her mind. She felt utterly alone, desolate. She found it harder and harder to concentrate without his presence.
When had she become so needy?
She hated the feeling of emptiness, barrenness. Where was he? Maybe something had happened to him. Maybe he was dead and had left her completely alone.
