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... yone around.

The upper layer of sand in this area had been cleared, and a section of high wall not far away that had been cracked by the sun and eroded by sandstorms was particularly eye-catching.

Inside the high walls were many half-excavated tombs, with long-corroded bones scattered everywhere.

There was a terrifying silence in the cemetery area, and the clattering sound of the small cart carrying Evan was particularly jarring.

“The resting place of the deceased ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

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Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

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