Aria's POV
I didn't wait for the witch to come to me.
The moment I left the room, I went straight to where I knew I would find her, the photograph clenched so tightly in my hand that the edges dug into my palm. My heart hammered against my ribs, and Lydia paced restlessly inside me, her unease mirroring my own.
I followed the faint scent of herbs until I reached the ritual room.
The witch stood beside a long wooden table, carefully sorting dried herbs into small bowls.
She looked up when I entered. Then her eyes fell on the photograph in my hand. The color drained from her face. Her fingers went still.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
I raised the photograph between us. "Who is she?"
The witch stared at it as though she had seen a ghost.
Finally, her shoulders sagged. "Yo
