The waves crumbled in on themselves. White foam bubbled on the surface of the water. Agatha stood with her toes curled into the sand, the water moving towards her and caressing her feet. Her once blonde hair, now grey, fluttered in the light breeze. She had been here once before. A long time ago. She had run from this place, afraid. Afraid of what she had seen. Afraid of what she had done.
Agatha remembered Estelle. The way her smile curled downwards on one side. How her long thick brown hair would get tangled in the ribbon she used to tie it with. Her laugh. Her kindness. The terror on her face just before it happened. The last look she gave Agatha. The shocked realisation of betrayal.
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