Miranda
The cemetery seemed to grow colder around us.
“What do you mean the person who planned it was never taken into custody?”
My husband’s patrol partner looked toward Matthew before answering. “The attack did not begin the day the king’s soldiers entered the settlement. The order had already been given.”
Matthew moved closer to me. Jake stood beside him, still holding the wooden horse, while Becca turned the medallion between her fingers as though the three stars were only another shape to explore.
“Who gave it?” I asked.
“A woman from outside.”
The answer unsettled me more than another name from the settlement would have. Our leaders had spent generations teaching us that outsiders were corrupted by the crown. They were not supposed to enter our homes, advise our council, or kn
