A new day had arrived, and the trial loomed only days away. Livia still hasn't recovered her strength. The exhaustion in her bones was not only physical; it had seeped into the marrow of her being.
She did not fear the trial itself so much as the sentences that might follow — the punishments that would be visited on her and on Lilly. The uncertainty of it was a slow, gnawing thing.
Since the night before her thoughts had been heavy and restless. Every quiet hour brought the same unwelcome replay: the cold voice that haunted her mind, a whisper that sounded more like accusation than counsel. It had no name, only an emotion — raw, burning hate aimed at her.
Her thoughts always returned to her sister, to the possibility that someone close was involved, though the evidence to support that suspicion was thin. Still, the knot in her gut tightened whenever she tried to force it away.
"Luna?"
