It has been more than a week since Catelyn disappeared from the island, and her eldest son is finding no easier rest than he had the day they discovered her gone. He has slept little, haunted by losses and wounds he had thought long since scabbed over, staunched if not healed. When he closes his eyes he hears her voice as he knows it--on the
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"I'm sorry," he whispers, finding her hand in the darkness. Like her soft it's all right, it is all he has to offer.
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