"I buried you myself eighteen years ago" Dahlia spoke with deep hatred in her shaky voice.
Dahlia's assertion shocked more than one. Everyone, especially Freya.
"oh yes you did" the woman's care free expression disappeared and was replaced by a hard and hateful one. "but you missed a detail"
"then how come you are here?"
"I was buried not dead. And you should know that the livings always meet."
"wait!" Freya finally spoke up. She was confused. Was this woman Vittoria? Was this woman their mother? Dahlia said she was buried didn't she? Freya assumed she was dead but she was buried alive.
"what is going on? Who is she?" she asked Dahlia.
"Freya..."
The woman's eyes turned to Freya's face. Her her widened slightly as took in the beauty that was Freya. Then her gaze softened.
