Hazel’s POV
I stared at Dimitri, my pulse hammering in my ears. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, like the walls were closing in.
“What did you find?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Dimitri reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a plain brown envelope. He opened it slowly and slid out a small photograph. He held it up so I could see.
“I tried to put a face to the missing picture on the file,” he said. “I asked around with the other maids, showed them the name. After a lot of digging, one of the older servants remembered her. Benedicta Petterson.”
I took the photo with shaking fingers. The woman in it looked ordinary…plain brown hair pulled back in a tight bun, a simple maid’s uniform, a face that could blend into any crowd. But something about her
