[Upon entering the cemetery of the Island, the gypsy hears an ethereal song within her mind and thinks with her other Self: "Come on fairy tale, reach my sun."]

GIPSY: Who's there? I hear a sing from afar. It's soft as the glitter of the snow... Puerile as if inside a fairy tale...

I loved Francisco... I don't remember if he touched me without my permission... Unfortunately some loves are u