KNOX’S POV
I go still. I already have the gist of it—she called me earlier this night, and she gave me the facts straight: my housekeeper had been moving sedated women through the servant tunnels in a hood.
One of them had a fresh knife wound. Marjorie had drawn a blade on Reyes and called my fiancée a witch.
I stood in the cold outdoors with the phone pressed to my ear and felt the floor tilt under me.
I told Ember to do what she felt was right, and I meant it—and then I did not come home for four more hours, because I could not make myself face what waited here
“She’s in the holding cells,” Ember says. “I kept her solitary. Where you—where I put her.” Her hand fists slightly in the sheet over my chest. “I keep thinking I should feel something clean about it. Vindicated, maybe. She
