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Kallie nodded before taking a deep breath. When she exhaled, she said, “He’s been here for a few days.”

“A fewdays?” Myra shrieked. Casting a wary glance at the door, she cleared her throat, speaking quieter this time. “So, this was not the first time you saw him since . . .” Myra’s words fell off.

Kallie looked away, and that was answer enough.

“When?” Myra asked.

Kallie watched the rain splatter against the window, the sky a murky gray. “I saw him the first time in the hallway after the Last Dance.”

“In thecastle?” Myra hissed.

Kallie nodded again. “He must be working with someone. How else could he have gotten in the castle?”

Myra gnawed on her lip. “What did he want?”

Kallie shrugged. “Me, I guess.”

“Why?”

Graeson’s words echoed in her mind:He’s manipulating you.

She trusted Myra, but Kallie didn’t know if she could trust her with those words. Yet if they were false, why couldn’t she bring herself to speak them out loud?

“I—I don’t know, Mys.”

Myra ran her finger across the edge of her sleeve. “Do you think he’s alone? Or . . .”

Kallie swallowed. She didn’t want to know if anyone had joined him, for she still hadn’t seen Terin or Dani. Graeson was already more than enough to shake her. She couldn’t face them, too.

“It would only make sense if the other two were with him.”

Myra nodded. “But I still don’t understand why. Do you think . . . Do you think they’ve come for you again?”

Kallie scoffed, shaking her head. She didn’t care what Graeson had said. There was only one logical option here. After what she did, she wasn’t worth saving. “If they did, it’s to kill me.”

“Why would they want to kill you?”

Kallie laughed and stood from the couch. “Why? Because to them,Iam to blame for Fynn’s death.” Kallie’s nails bit into her palms, but the burn didn’t make the pain of her brother’s death disappear. “Even if I could explain to them that he was not supposed to die, it wouldn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that I mourn his death, too.”

“But you’re . . .” Myra fell silent.

Kallie scoffed. “I’m what, Myra? Their daughter, their sister? It doesn’t matter! Fynn isdeadbecause of me.” Kallie gripped the back of the chair, her knuckles blanching. “The fact that I share blood with him does not matter.”

Myra shook her head. “If that was truly the case, why wouldn’t Graeson have killed you last night? From what you told me, he had the opportunity. He could have taken it.”

“I don’t know, Myra!” Kallie threw her hands in the air and turned away. She scraped a hand over her face as if to wash away the rising emotion, but nothing she did settled the turning in her stomach. The blood in her veins vibrated, the anger pushing at her gift. Kallie slammed it back down.

Myra crossed her arms over her chest. “But you let him go.”

It was not a question but rather a statement—an accusation.

Why had Kallie said anything? If anyone overheard their conversation, if word got to her father . . .

Myra was loyal to Kallie, though. Kallie had seen the way she eluded his attention. She would not willingly seek it out.

Kallie sighed and nodded. When Myra quirked a brow, Kallie already knew the question ofwhywas on the tip of Myra’s tongue, so Kallie saved her the breath. “His life is of no consequence to me.”

“But is hispresenceof no consequence?”