Marked by the Mafia king

n't s

of bleach and old smoke. My thoughts kept circling back to the church, to Rosa, to the

s just a speck on a long stretch of road. Somewhere north, I guessed. Cassian had told the driver exactly where to take me, but I hadn

Cassian shoved in the duffle bag. The fabric clung to my skin from a cold sweat. I kicked the

d like

des. My hazel eyes were sunken, rimmed with red. The hoodie I wore was at least t

found my locket, the one with the picture of Rosa. M

ust h

used. I closed my eyes and whispered into the silence, "Please be okay.

reaked with dust. I stepped inside, shut the folding door behind me, and tr

e. Then aga

is unavailable at this tim

scoe, just off Route 17. It sounded familiar, maybe from road signs during school trips. I was far

hair into a low bun. Then I tucked the notebook into my ba

trim. Neon lights. A red sign that flickered with the word "OPEN." I

itress, a tired-looking woman with dark cir

And... ju

yebrow but didn

e brought. The local news played softly on the TV behind

ire Lionel Godfrey in a private ceremony yesterday. Sources say she vanished s

ress appeared, caught mid-laugh from a photo I didn't even know existe

k into

to notice. Maybe they didn't care. Or may

idled. It wasn't unusual. People passed through towns like this all the ti

there when

ith my heart hammering against my ribs. As I passed the SUV, I dared a glanc

locked the door and

to think.

he notebook and

I k

Rosco

me cash, a ph

don't

is looki

e knows

s in t

he pen, then circl

ver. But I couldn't

. A place to l

ut putting her in danger. Cassian had promised t

t comforting anymore. It felt... st

my door. Soft, deliberate. They paused

o the door, straining to listen. Noth

was imag

wasn't al