The cave narrowed, stone closing in like a throat. The light thinned as the cold deepened.
Soren rounded the corner.
—and the world broke.
—instantly emptied of any semblance of sense.
Vinegar lay on the ground where she had fallen.
Her body was twisted wrong. Her bra top and flesh spread open like it had given up trying to keep her warm.
Her head lolled to the side.
Her neck?
No.
The cut was clean. Too clean.
That was definitely a blade's work.
Handler stood over her.
The knife was still in his hand.
Blood crept down the metal in slow, patient lines, dripping to the stone with a sound far too soft for what it meant.
His face was empty. Not cruel. Not angry. Just… finished.
It was unbelievable.
Vinegar's eyes remained open.
They stared at the ceiling of the cave, glassy and unblinking—and from the corners of them, tears still slipped free, tracing quiet paths down her temples, as if her body had not yet been told she was dead.
Soren's breath hitched.
