In the dead of night, white mist rose through the mountains, curling around the entire ridge like a shroud.

When Francesca stepped outside, she looked like a soul that had been ripped from its body. Her frail frame swayed as if it might collapse at any second. She kept murmuring Jaden’s name, still drowning in endless grief.

The moment Julian saw her, he hurried over and shrugged off his suit jacket, draping it over her shoulders.

Francesca stared at ...