Chapter Seventy Three– The One Who Waited

Evelyn did not flinch at the voice, though her pulse roared like drums behind her ribs.

She turned slowly, dagger ready.

The crypt’s far end was cloaked in shadow—too deep, too unnatural. And then, from the veil of black, something stepped forward.

A boy.

No older than ten. Pale, barefoot, a...

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