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Chapter 45: Wounds, Wives, and What-the-Hell Moments
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Chapter 47: The Art of Desception
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... —and maybe set off a few internal alarms. Who was this woman? She was tall, with a presence that commanded the room without trying. Something about her felt... sharp, like she knew more than she let on. And she looked oddly familiar, which only made my mind itch harder for answers.
Her hair was impossible to miss—curly, cascading waves dyed in a smoky gray that faded into a soft pink at the ends, like the sky just before dawn. It bounced with each step she took, too confidently for someo ...
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