Dominic’s POV

It’s past midnight in the old Voss family cemetery, a place that smells of damp stone and old promises. The headstones lean like tired sentinels, watching as I commit another crime for the sake of a ghost.

The grave I came for sits apart from the others, marked by a simple granite plaque: Elia Beloved daughter, cherished friend. A lie carved in stone.

The same grave that, according to every official record, holds her remains. The same grave Stanley once ordered sealed and ...