Eve
A flurry of gasps, startled scribbling, and camera flashes burst through the room like static. Montegue's hand twitched at his side, a subtle signal to the guards to remain still—no intervention unless needed.
The silence that followed wasn't calm. It was brimming. No further explanation was needed. If they started down the road of lineage and spiritual inheritance, they'd be here all day and still not touch the heart of the matter.
"Next question," I said into the microphone.
Hands shot up like arrows. I pointed to the closest one—dark suit, press badge gleaming.
The man stood. "Do you know the whereabouts of Ellen Valmont?"
The room froze.
I didn't.
Something sharp twisted in my stomach—her name was a blade I hadn't learned to sheath yet. I opened my mouth, then closed it. My fingers curled around the edge of the podium as I inhaled.
"No," I said, the word scraping my throat. "I don't know where she is."
