LAYLA'S POV
I pace the floor of my room for what feels like the hundredth time. The note is crumpled in my fist.
The paper looks worn, like someone had crumpled it a thousand times but the message is clear. And chilling.
Ronan.
That name.
What do they mean by I shouldn't trust him? Who sent this? and who is Ronan?
Is it a trap? Probably. But what if it isn't?
I press a hand to my stomach, forcing myself to calm down. I feel a bit nervous. I can't ignore it. maybe if I follow the instructions, I can find out more about myself and my father too.
I wrap the cloak tightly around my shoulders and step into the corridor. Everyone is already asleep so it's the perfect time to move. I move as quietly as I can. I stay close to the walls, ducking into alcoves each time I hear a guard's boots echo in the distance. The guards are patrolling but luckily, I miss them. My hand never lets go of the note. I can feel the inked words burning through the paper into my skin.
