CHAPTER 53: WHAT THE BOX HOLDS
Selene's POV
Maren was stronger on the third day.
Not fully recovered — Draven was clear about that, precise in the way healers are when they want to prevent arguments before they start — but strong enough to sit upright without the pillows, strong enough to hold a cup without her hands shaking, strong enough to answer the question I'd been carrying since she'd first said *the box* and then lost consciousness.
I brought her breakfast. Not because it was my job — Vera had offered, Nessa had offered, Draven had said he would handle it himself if I insisted on hovering — but because I wanted the walk. The long way through the packhouse, past the training grounds and the communications room and the corridor that smelled like cedar and old paper. The time to organize what I knew before I sat across from her and asked for the rest of it.
My mother had been murdered.
There were two diaries.
