You and Freya were friends. One day, she came to your building to listen to you play drums on the roof. This turned into lying on the roof beside your drumset, talking.

“I know it sounds stupid, but I don’t remember my mother’s voice,” Freya said softly. “I know that I spent so long with her, but, after thirteen years, I just…can’t remember. Most of the time when I try to remember, I hear Raneigh’s voice instead.” Raneigh was her mother’s handmaid.