The woman's cracked, hoarse voice scraped through the air as she leaned forward.
"You don't remember how you died?" she asked, head tilting, eyes glinting.
Catherine recoiled into her chair.
Her chest felt crushed... caught between a heavy anvil and molten rock. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't cool down. Heat and pressure warred inside her, stealing her voice.
How she died…
She had always assumed it was Maximilian's sword. That was the story she had carried, the one that made sense. Clean. Simple. Convenient.
But now...
She wasn't sure.
The woman straightened, the crystal ball casting a sickly glow across her hollowed face, stretching shadows where they did not belong.
"You already ran once," she intoned, her voice dropping into something deeper, older.
"This time…"
A pause.
"You will have to choose... with open eyes."
Pain slammed into Catherine before she could react.
Ran? As though staying would have saved anyone. He abandoned me. I had to run!
