Midnight.
The world was silent, suspended, holding its breath.
Elira stepped out of the car and into the bone-deep cold of the abandoned cemetery Golderdy had chosen.
He always chose places that spoke in symbols. Death. Loss. Memory.
Tonight, it was the place she’d buried Leah. Her sister. The one she’d tried to forget. The one she almost drowned when they were girls.
And now—this was where Golderdy wanted her to bury a daughter.
A single grave had been dug in the center.
Fresh. Waiting.
A wooden box sat beside it, open and empty.
And next to that, Amira. Standing. Blindfolded. Shaking.
Elira’s breath hitched.
She stepped forward.
“Stop,” said a voice.
From the shadows, Golderdy emerged. Black gloves. Black coat. The glint of a gun at his side.
Elira didn’t flinch.
“Take the
