CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR

ALEX DAVALO

Not as easy as she makes it look!

That night, I walked over to my mother's private chamber. The scent of lavender mixed with the faint aroma of herbs hung in the air like a shroud. Flickering candlelight danced across the stone walls, casting warm shadows that felt both comforting and haunting. The heavy oak door creaked open, and, even before I stepped inside, I sensed that familiar heaviness in my chest.

"Leave us alone," she said to the healer the moment she saw me. The healer, a new one, an elderly woman with silver hair braided tightly, nodded solemnly and slipped out, closing the...