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Summary
Out of everything he can remember of the last two-hundred forty-seven years, this is the most baffling: he is not in pieces.
After publicly insulting Sylvia, after open rebellion in the interlude, he’d expected to be scattered through her lab like dandelion seeds. To be burned, flayed, blinded. Slit. On rare occasions, when he’s earned it and she’s feeling sentimental, Sylvia likes to invite Marianne to weave bracelets with his ligaments. (Few memories carry through all of the rewinding like those of pain, but something in him knows never to let this secret of hers slip to anyone.)
Correction is how Sylvia shows her love, and oh, how she loves him.
But, maybe he’s really done it this time.
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Perfection is redemption. Correction is love. GW386 finds both.
Series
- Part 4 of In the Dark
