Jace:
Calla didn't say a word on the drive back. Neither did I. There wasn't much left to say. Her father had confirmed enough. Not everything. Not nearly enough. But enough to know we'd been chasing the wrong shadow. Reve wasn't the whole operation. He was a piece of it. Maybe a big piece. But not the one holding the strings. Calla drove with both hands locked around the steering wheel, her jaw tight, eyes fixed on the road. Every few minutes, she'd wipe beneath one eye. She wasn't crying anymore. That somehow worried me more. Anger was easier to understand. Grief was familiar. But whatever was sitting behind her eyes now? That was something else. "Calla."
"I'm fine."
"I didn't ask."
She glanced at me. "I know." A beat passed. "I'm not fine."
I reached over and rested my hand on her
