Geneva
Demir is out of his mind as he storms around the empty house and I just stand there, staring at the note, motionless, confused, devastated.
My heart is breaking for him, for the pain that he’s in and I don’t even know how to take it away.
The phone rings, the sound ominous in the empty house and as if through thick fog I walk back to the coffee table.
“You have two hours,” an unfamiliar male voice says. “The old warehouse north of Redwind. Come alone or they die. If I get a hint of those prissy king’s men anywhere near, they die. Is that clear?”
“Y-yes,” I stammer, my own voice sounding distant, like something come out of my worst nightmares.
Then the man hangs up, leaving me standing in the middle of the room with a phone in my hand, confused and terrified. It was him - that
