Scarlett
The envelope is smooth in my fingers. Thick paper. Luxurious. But the tidy paper clashes horribly with the rest of the room. There is a shattered vase in the corner, curtains torn at the hem, dust disturbed like someone searched for something in a frenzy. That kind of contrast feels deliberate. Planned. And it makes my skin crawl.
What will I find written inside this letter?
I hesitate, my name staring up at me in glistening red ink that can’t be anything but blood.
Rhodes stands behind me, silent. I can feel the weight of his eyes when I break the seal.
Inside is a single sheet of parchment, the handwriting elegant.
You were too late.
The girl was lovely. So brave. But even silver has its limits.
Come find her. If you can.
There’s no signature. Just a pressed wax insigni
