[Meredith].
Yes, I had overheard her denying Dennis minutes earlier, behind the closed door, but this—this felt different.
This wasn't confusion or hysteria. This wasn't her illness whispering nonsense either.
There was pity in her eyes, clarity in her voice, and a grounded truth in the way her words flowed. And it was that clarity that made the breath lodge in my throat.
My pulse quickened. If she were ranting, I could dismiss it. If she were angry, I could question it.
But like this—calm, lucid, almost grieving, it felt too real.
And for the first time since stepping into this place, a chill crept beneath my skin as the weight of Lady Oatrun's words settled heavily over me.
She's telling the truth. Or at least, she believes she is. And I didn't know which option frightened me more.
I forced myself to breathe and gather my courage. "Why do you say so?" I asked quietly.
Whether what she said made sense or not, I needed to hear more. I needed to understand.
