With the rogue lying dead at my feet, I stand, unable to move a muscle.

Stole me from my parents?

What slander is this? It has to be lies. The dead rogue couldn’t have been speaking about my kind and decent father.

The rogue was about to lose her life and she had to salvage some self-respect and pride. She had to do something to try and even the score. That was all. But still, my heart is troubled.

As I stand there bewildered, I don’t even sense the ...