Larissa’s lovely face twisted into something uglier.

“Have some dignity, Adeline.

You’ve ruined enough lives.” I turned to her, and I kept my voice flat and even, because flat and even was so much worse for her than shouting.

“You built a grave for a child that never existed,” I said, “and you put me inside it.” Something flickered behind her eyes — the first crack.

Roman stepped in close, dropping his voice so only I could hear.

“I can still destroy you,” he breathed.