Anisha’s Perspective:
“How can you kill him just to save this non-existent traitor? We know you don’t get along with him, but this is going too far!” The voices grew louder, and the room filled with tension and anger. After a moment, I came to realize that my father’s right-hand man, Mr. Anderson, was accusing me of the heinous act of killing someone to protect a supposed traitor.
My heart raced, each thump echoing the chaos that had consumed the opulent ballroom. Mr. Anderson’s accusations pierced the air, his voice a tempest of rage as he pointed an accusing finger at me. The weight of his words settled upon me like an iron shroud, suffocating me in a storm of disbelief.
Elijah’s lifeless form was lying beside me, a chilling reminder of the events that had transpired. My fingers tremb
