Ella
Kylian called it the last step. I understood, sitting across from him in his study with the morning light cutting hard lines across the desk between us, that he meant it in every sense of the word.
"Everything we've done so far can be undone," he said. "The training, the physical changes, all of it is reversible if you decide this isn't the path you want. This part isn't."
"What part?"
"Ella Hart has to disappear. Not the way she already has, presumed dead in a river with a police file gathering dust. I mean legally, completely, permanently. No paper trail leads back to her again, not ever, not even to you."
Before I could ask what that meant, there was a knock at the door, and a man I hadn't met came in carrying a leather folio thick enough to need both hands. He introduced hims
