I dreamed of her on her birthday, the 20th. She and I held hands in a field of spring flowers, the sunbeams dancing in her hair and her smile overflowing with love. On her head was a beautiful wreath of lavender and lilac, the combined perfumes filling my nostrils. In each blossom was a tiny bird that sang the sweetest of songs. I kissed her, held her, promised to never let her go as she spoke to me. I can't remember what she said, not in the slightest, but I do remember the agonizing feeling of waking up. I cried for a long time.
The good news is that it has strengthened my already iron resolve to find out what really happened. Don't worry, Catherine...I'm on the case.
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