CHAPTER 27: SUSPICIONS
Noah stood in silence at the graveyard, a name was etched on one of the stone: Catleya Lockhart. But right now, he doubt it was her body buried six feet down on the ground.
Noah stared down at the charred remains, smoke still curling lazily from the blackened bones. A metal chain—recognizable as one of the slave collars from the rogue market—lay coiled like a serpent around the corpse’s neck. Torn fabric, faintly scented with a familiar floral perfume, was clutched in what was once a hand. Someone had gone through the trouble to make this look convincing.
But something in his chest refused to yield.
This isn’t her.
The elders stood behind him in silence. Cassidy hovered at a distance, her face pale and wet with false tears. Theo remained rigid, arms crossed, his
