Lucille

Once we were in the corridor, Queen Anne reached for my hand. “Lucille, stay calm. Everything will be all right.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” she said with conviction.

There were a million questions spiraling through my thoughts, yet none were spoken. Uttering them aloud would give them energy. I refused to do that. I wouldn’t entertain the idea that something had happened to Roman, not my Roman. ...