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convulsed with racking sobs and she was framed by dozens of bouquets of flowers that would soon adorn the stark, barren mounds of dirt before her. When the last glint of sunlight was fading into gray streaks across the sky, Desiree was gently urged to her feet by her godfather and with one last silent farewell to her beloved parents, she allowed him to lead her slowly toward the cemetery gate.
     
    ***
     
    “Papa!”
    Desiree bolted upright, with a scream about to tear from her throat and tears streaming down her cheeks. Her breath came in short gasps as she looked wildly about the unfamiliar guestroom of her godparent’s home. She realized then that she had once again been dreaming as she had each time she sought rest since the death of her parents. Held captive within her own mind, she was forced to relive the agonizing moments before the accident with terrible clarity, as her father snatched her by the arm, hurling her from the carriage and saving her life.
    With a cleansing sigh, Desiree now released the morbid scene from her mind, placed a down-filled pillow against the headboard and leaned back upon it. Then with arms about her drawn up knees, she leaned her cheek upon her arms, looking to the window. The low hanging moon appeared to flicker, as fast moving puffs of clouds shrouded and then cleared from the pale sphere. Somewhere in the Roche's still house, a clock struck the first hour of a new day.
    Desiree now looked about the darkened, unfamiliar bedroom, wishing she were at home, in her own room. She would love to walk into her parent's room right this moment and just be alone with their memory. To be able to touch their clothes and possessions and feel a sense of connection with them. Today—she consoled herself, she would be going home later today.
    She had made this one concession to Francois and Madeleine, her dear godparents, allowing them to convince her to spend this night at their home, instead of making the drive around the lake after coming an hour from the ancestral cemetery outside Rouen.
    Despite all their well-meaning insistence to take care of the arrangements, she had managed to hold firmly to most of the painful, yet necessary, duties. The undertaker had been summoned, burial clothes laid out, coffins secured, the priest, the service, the last resting place, every detail had been seen to personally by her. But at what a price, she now mused. These nightmares that plagued her seemed to be escalating. She had tried to be strong throughout the last days but after the funeral, the actual finality of it was crushing and she had broken down at the cemetery as if never to stop weeping.
    It was her inconsolable sobs that had brought Francois to insist she remain here this night. On the way from the cemetery, just hours ago she now realized, he had informed her that she would be staying on with them for some time. She had been totally against the idea, wanting only to return home to the Château and be alone with her grief but he had been adamant.
    “There are more than enough servants to care for your estate for the time being and we feel you would do much better if you would take some time to recuperate before dealing with the memories your home will stir. Now that the funeral is over, you will be for the most part, alone, without the diversion of guests. You are still in a state of shock—please, allow us to pamper you a bit.” He had delivered this more as a statement, than a request.
    When she had declined, trying to reason with him as to her need to return home this night, her godmother had entered the discussion, “ Ma Cherie , it would serve no good purpose—only enhance your pain. You must try to see this. We ask you stay only for a time.”
    “Madeleine I can not…”she had begun firmly, but then her godmother’s eyes filling with tears had halted her, “for a night,” she had sighed heavily, “this night—that is all I will commit to. I will make it though this ordeal Madeleine. I