Chapter 13

Stellan knelt among the ruins, his hands clawing through the charred wreckage. His fingertips were torn and bloodied by now. His eyes were red, and tears streaked through the grime on his face. "Celine..." He didn't know how much time had passed before his fingers closed around a shard of porcelain, their names still etched into its surface. He clutched it tightly and stared blankly into the distance as blood trailed down his fingers and fell in drops. Stellan remembered that the shard he was holding was a piece of the ceramic vase they had made in the workshop two years ago. Back then, she had looked at him, her eyes bright. His hand covered hers as they shaped the damp clay together. The warmth of her fingers had stirred something strange in his chest. But in those days, his heart held only revenge. Whenever he watched Celine absorbed in her work, he thought of Lucia. He told himself that Celine had stolen everything from Lucia and deserved to pay for it. But as time passed, ho