Jace arrived before the embassy could finalize my replacement documents.
That afternoon, fine rain fell over Rotherhaven. He stood in the drizzle, his black coat wrinkled by wind, looking as if he hadn't slept in days.
His face was pale, eyes bloodshot with exhaustion. In his hand, he clenched a folded copy of a registration form, knuckles white from pressure.
Kai stood guard at the doorway, muttering a string of rapid Neerlandish words.
Jace did not understand, only asked softly in Sinaran, "Bianca Sinclair is here, right?"
The room fell silent for a moment.
I did not lift my head; the voice was already painfully familiar.
Els Jansen came out from the kitchen, looking from me to the exhausted, sullen man outside. She seemed to guess something.
She didn't speak Sinaran, only furrow
