Sara's POV.
My bare feet padded softly against the cold floor, but the chill didn’t bother me. It couldn’t compare to the icy storm raging in my chest.
I clutched the pendant in my hand, its sharp edges digging into my palm.
The pain was grounding, a cruel recollections of what Morgan had done and what I had promised myself I’d do in return.
“Morgan,” I whispered, her name dripping with venom. My voice echoed softly in the empty corridor.
My fingers tightened around the pendant, and I could feel the weight of it—her crimes.
“You can’t cover up your tracks for too long.” My voice was sharper now, cutting through the silence like a blade.
I paused in the middle of the hallway, staring down at the pendant the guard had handed me earlier.
There were no doubts; Its design was traum
