"You can hear her laughter in the wind."
Closing his eyes, Leon thought he did hear laughter, sweet and lilting, sweeping across the golden wheat. Glancing at his companion, he studied Heinrich's face; the narrowed eyes, the clenched jaw.
"You miss her."
Heinrich drew a long, shuddering breath. "Every moment."
The field of wheat shimmered as wind tossed it to and fro. A bird swooped down and, catching its prey, shot up into the wide blue sky.
"Her presence is here," Heinrich whispered. "In every motion, every tick of nature. When she died, she came back here."
"This is where you met?"
"Nein. But we walked here often in our minds."
"Never in real life?"
Heinrich shook his head. "There was no need. When you spoke with her, every place looked like this."