The air in the crematorium was thick, smelling of ozone and the suffocating perfume of lilies

death.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

They weren’t mourning her. They were disposing of evidence.

I threw the lid open.

The chapel went silent, except for the distant, hungry roar of the furnace behind us. Helena lunged forward so fast her pearls struck together at her throat.

“Close it!” she shrieked, her perfect voice cracking into panic.

Marcus moved continue reading …