Sarafina POV
"My mother…?"
The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.
To think she was who we were just talking about, she seems to be more present, more aware of everything my existence holds, yet she remains absent.
Vasper watches me like he's waiting for something, like he's measuring the exact moment the ground disappears beneath my feet.
Alistair steps closer to me. Not touching, but near enough that I feel it.
"Start talking," he says, voice cold enough to freeze the room.
Vesper sighs softly. "You always rush the good parts."
"No games," Cassian adds, his tone sharp. Controlled. Dangerous in a quieter way.
Vesper's gaze flicks between them, unimpressed.
Then back to me.
"I told you," he says lightly. "I'm just the messenger."
"Then deliver it," Alistair snaps.
For a second, I think he won't. That he'll twist this, drag it out, turn it into something unbearable. Because that was more like him. But then something shifts in his expression.
