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Jane knew it was impossible to touch a star. A star wasn’t solid, it wasn’t tangible. It looked beautiful, but it wasn’t really there.
Sif was the same way. She was there on earth, feet to the dirt, dark hair blowing in the wind. “Lady Jane,” she said, bowing her head in Jane’s direction, eyes twinkling with the sort of knowing happiness not acquired on earth. “I am glad to be with you again.” When Sif leaned down to kiss Jane’s hand, Jane’s vision nearly swelled and shattered at the gentle touch.
Stars—gigantic, luminous spheres of plasma held together by their own gravity. Nothing more, nothing less.
Jane knew differently.