I motioned toward two leather chairs by the fire. The flames shimmered, casting warmth and shadows across the dark wooden walls.
“Sit,” I said. My voice was soft but steady.
She sank into the nearest chair, hands clutching the arms like they might launch her off at any moment.
I stood before her, heart drumming like a warhorse hooves.
“There’s so much I have to say,” I began, the words starting rough and jagged in my skull. “So many questions I need answers to.”
She looked at me, bracing herself. “I know.”
My pulse thudded. “Start… from the f*****g beginning, Keya.” I swallowed. “Tell me what I’ve missed. Tell me why I was the last one to know.”
Her eyes flicked to mine, flicked away, and back again. I saw storm clouds pass through her expression. She took a breath, lips trembling.
