85. Redundant

It was Ivy. Of course, it was Ivy. No one had ever suspected her—not the sweet, wide-eyed girl who always played the helpless fool. She’d built her persona so well, draped in innocence, cloaked in naivety. Always needing saving. Always safe from suspicion. Rose pushed herself up from the cold stone floor, trembling with confusion and fury. "You… you're the creature of darkness?" Her voice cracked. She staggered, catching her foot on the jagged edge of the casket behind her. With a sharp cry, she fell again, her palms scraping the rough ground. Ivy stepped forward, bathed in the pale, golden light spilling in from the corridor. Her lips curled into a smirk. "I was," she said, her tone like honey laced with venom. "But now... You are." Her smile widened as she descended the steps gracefully, her dress whispering around her ankles. Rose blinked, turning her gaze to Hawkbone—the one person she thought she could rely on. His smirk mirrored Ivy’s now, that same devilish gleam dancing in his