Hope
The screaming won’t stop.
Even when the palace is quiet, even when the wind outside howls against the high stone towers, I can still hear her. That woman — whoever she was — her voice slicing through the corridors like a blade.
Sometimes it comes in flashes.
A cry.
A gasp.
The dull thud of something heavy hitting the floor.
I wake in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, my pulse racing, my hands clutched around the sheets as if I could wring the sound out of the air.
I know something’s happening in this castle. Something dark.
Something all the maids and guards are ignoring.
But every time I start to follow that thought, every time my mind starts to pick at the seams of this place, I feel that pull — that quiet, sinister tug around my throat.
The ruby necklace hums s
