The paper trembled in Lara's hand as her eyes traced the words, each stroke written with cruel precision:
"If you value the girl's life, come alone to the outer Southeastern Gate before dusk.Tell no one. Come ALONE! One wrong move, and she dies."
Her breath caught in her throat. The din of the festival faded until all she could hear was the dull thudding of her heart. She crushed the letter in her palm, fighting back panic.
They had taken Ivy. But it her, they wanted.
For a brief moment, she closed her eyes. Of course, she thought. This isn't random. This is about me. Who could it be?
She could still smell the sweetness of the cotton candy in the air, mocking her with its innocence. Straightening her back, Lara folded the letter carefully and tucked it into her sash. Her mind was already made up. She would not allow harm to come to the child—not while she still drew breath.
"Forgive me, Master," she whispered to herself, "but this is the only way."
