The board kept growing.

I stood in front of it, fists tight at my sides, eyes locked on the names carved into black stone. Marcus Fell. Petra Wynn. Now another fresh mark.

Missing.

Again.

“You’re early.”

Soren’s voice came from behind me, calm as always. I didn’t turn.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I said.

“That makes two of us.”

I let out a short breath. “Another one.”

“Yes.” He stepped up beside me, hands folded behind his back. “Patterns are forming. That’s ...