The air in the orphanage’s common room hung thick and charged, like the stagnant calm before a storm breaks. The only sounds were the distant laughter of children and the frantic hammering of Linsy’s own heart against her ribs. She stood her ground, every muscle taut, facing down the tempest that was Michael Helwart.

He loomed before her, a man usually carved from ice and impeccable control, now visibly shattered. His eyes, a stormy grey she had once found captivating, were bloodshot and ...