"Martha." He whispered as he stared at the picture of the woman his heart still beat for even after she had left him for over seventeen years.
The picture was the one they took when Dante was born. Dante must have taken it from his study, because he had not given it to him. When had he taken it?
"It's been seventeen years and two months since you left my side." He smiled wryly as he took up the picture. He took a clean cloth from his pocket and wiped the frame, even as they were no dust on it.
"Don't smile at me, my love." He traced his fingers across her face. "I have failed you despite your plea."
His mind drifted back to the day Martha had died. They were on their way back the seer in search of solution for the prophecy on Dante. They were driving since Dante was still a baby and Martha was weak.
