I looked down at my own gloved hands.
"The touch of death, it seems." I shrank as I heard myself say those words out loud, and even more when I raised my head and met his dark gaze. Imagining what was probably going through his mind at that moment wasn’t that difficult. "I didn’t kill my grandmother, if that’s what you’re thinking."
However, I must have misunderstood the situation. Because Viktor didn’t seem doubtful at all about my statement, and he surprised me when he said:
"I know it wasn’t you."
"How can you know?" I asked, as careful as I was suspicious.
"All the Dyer witches I had the displeasure of knowing perished the same way. Sleeping. Heart attack in old age. An unfortunate coincidence of fate, or maybe not."
I studied him carefully. I had no memories of my great-grandmot
