You’re leaning over the railing on the edge of the lake, lost in thought.

It’s four years to the day since your husband, Makarov, disappeared without a word.

He left you with plenty of money to take care of yourself, but it never seemed to ease the sting of his absence.

“It’s a beautiful day, hm?” Says a familiar voice beside you.

You respond with a mumbled agreement, too caught up in your thoughts to really notice him.

“It’s no surprise to find you here. You always did like the sun.”