Sometimes, Rovina would lean against his headstone and watch the world go by.
Sure, she’s trying to let go, and she’s succeeding. Somewhat.
It’s just… hard, sometimes.
Her blood brother, her father, they were easy. They were gone too early, too fast for her to feel anything but regret and a ‘what if’, every now and then. That was inevitable. It was also easy to ignore.
Ashton to her, because that lying little critter never gave her his real name while he was alive. In the end, even the name she thought was his was just a pseudonym.