The moment Sasha collapsed, Demetri caught her before her body hit the floor.
“Nora!” he barked, panic slicing through his voice.
“I’ve got her—demetri, bring her to the couch!”
Sasha’s breathing was shallow, frantic even in unconsciousness, her lashes trembling against her cheeks. Her skin was ice cold.
Mila rushed forward. “Is she—”
“She fainted,” Nora said quickly, though her voice shook. “Shock. She’s overwhelmed.”
Demetri lowered Sasha onto the couch, cradling her head with a tenderness that would have stunned anyone who had ever feared him.
But Nora wasn’t watching Sasha anymore.
Her eyes shot to the window.
The voice—the soft, broken voice that had whispered “My daughter…”—was still echoing in her ears.
That voice didn’t sound like Liliana.
It sounded older.
Softer.
It
