Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 105939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Soul fracture memory exploded through him. She’d been writing to him without knowing it, addressing letters to the very being who walked beside her in human form.
“She begins,” Delphine continued, “‘I find myself compelled to write to you, though I know not if such correspondence can reach the divine realm. Since childhood, I have felt your presence—a warmth when darkness fell, guidance when I stumbled, the certainty that I am never truly alone.’”
The words struck him like physical blows. Delia had sensed his protection without understanding its source, felt his love as divine blessing rather than earthly devotion.
“She continues, ‘Others tell me I possess an overactive imagination, that my sense of being watched over springs from wishful thinking rather than reality. But I know what I feel. When danger approached, something always intervened. When sorrow threatened to overwhelm, comfort arrived from unknown sources.’”
Professional distance transformed Delia’s spiritual confession into historical curiosity for Delphine. For Bastien, every word carried the weight of recognition—she’d known, on some level deeper than consciousness, exactly what he was.
“The middle section grows more personal,” Delphine said, turning to the second page. “‘I have been blessed with love that feels too perfect for this imperfect world. A man has entered my life who treats me as if I were precious beyond measure, who sees beauty in thoughts others would call foolish, who makes me believe the future holds wonders I’ve only dared imagine.’”
His chest tightened until breathing became struggle. She was describing their relationship through the lens of divine blessing, attributing their happiness to celestial intervention.
“Then she writes, ‘Sometimes I wonder if earthly love and heavenly protection spring from the same source. When he looks at me, I see depths that speak of experiences beyond ordinary mortal existence. Yet he guards these depths so carefully, as if revealing them would somehow diminish the gift we share.’”
Delphine paused in her reading. “She’s connecting romantic love with spiritual experience. Quite sophisticated for someone without formal theological training, and also completely beautiful in its sentiment.”
“What else does she say?” Bastian cleared his throat a bit.
“The most touching section is this one. ‘There is a melody that comes to me in quiet moments, a tune I have never learned but sing as naturally as breathing. When I hum it, I feel closest to you, as if the music itself carries prayers between earthly and divine realms.’”
As if summoned by her words, Delphine began humming absently while reading—the same melody that had haunted him for 119 years, rising from her throat. The sound combined with her description of spiritual connection created perfect resonance between past and present.
Bastien’s control shattered completely.
The melody struck profoundly and past-life resonance crashed through his consciousness like tide against seawalls. Memory overwhelmed the Archive around him, making the chair beneath him insubstantial compared to the roar of recognition flooding his senses.
The Garden District mansion where Delia attended a Mardi Gras masquerade in 1906, moving through crowds of revelers in emerald silk that made her eyes seem infinite. Behind her half-mask, she was radiant with the kind of joy that made strangers stop to stare. Bastien watched from across the ballroom as she danced with partners who didn't realize they were holding starlight in human form.
When the music shifted to a waltz, she appeared at his elbow as if summoned by wish alone.
“I've been waiting for you to ask me to dance,” she said, though he hadn't spoken.
“How did you know I wanted to?”
“Because you've been watching me like someone memorizing a dream they're afraid to wake from.” She placed her gloved hand in his, leading him toward the floor. “And because some invitations don't require words.”
They moved together with harmony that made other dancers pause to admire their grace. In her arms, surrounded by music and laughter and the scent of jasmine from the gardens beyond, Bastien felt something approaching peace.
“I could dance with you forever,” Delia whispered against his ear.
“Forever might not be long enough.”
Her laughter, bright as silver bells, the way she moved as if dancing was prayer made visible—moments when love felt large enough to encompass eternity.
The memory shattered as Delphine’s hand touched his shoulder, her humming dying into concerned silence.
“Mr. Durand, you’re shaking. Are you unwell?”
He looked up at her face—the same soul looking at him through features shaped by different genetics and lifetime experiences. She carried no conscious memory of rooftop conversations or intuitive recognition, no awareness that she’d once sensed his divine nature through pure love.
“I need some air,” he managed, standing too quickly. “Excuse me.”
He fled the Archive before she could respond, leaving Delia’s letter in hands that had once written those words to him. The Quarter’s afternoon heat felt like blessing after the emotional suffocation of hearing private spiritual thoughts made public through historical research.
On the sidewalk outside, leaning against wrought iron, Bastien processed what he’d learned. Delia hadn’t just sensed his protection—she’d recognized the connection between earthly love and divine guardianship, understood on some level that they were the same force expressing itself through different forms.