I went still. The word hung between us, heavy and wrong, and I pulled back to look at his face, searching for the joke, the misunderstanding, the explanation that would make this make sense. "Family? Your family?""Not mine." His eyes opened, and the pain in them was so vast, so ancient, that I felt it in my own chest like a physical wound. "Hers."I didn't need to ask who he meant. The room. The silver brush. The brittle strands of hair. The photograph I hadn't touched, the name the maid had spat with such fury and grief. Madam. The woman whose ghost haunted these cliffs, whose presence lingered in every corner of the fortress, whose room Kain could not enter and would not explain."She had family," I said slowly, the pieces clicking together with a cold, dizzying clarity. "And they think—what? That you killed her? That you took me to replace her? What do they want, Kain?""Justice," he said, and the word was bitter, twisted, nothing like the noble concept it was supposed to be. "Ven
Read more
LOGIN
