Igor

Three days. Three days of questioning, of watching, of peeling back layers of lies until my hands were raw and my patience was a frayed wire sparking against my nerves.

I had questioned every guard, every maid, every manservant who had been on duty in Lorelei's wing that night. Twenty-two people in total, paraded through this interrogation chamber like cattle through a slaughterhouse. Their stories matched—mostly. Their alibis held—barely. The CCTV footage, though clearly doctored in ...