JASMINE
Chapter 129: Shadows of a Sister
The air in the private chapel felt thick and heavy, pressing down on my chest with every shallow breath I took. Soft sunlight filtered through the tall stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns of red, blue, and gold across the polished wooden pews and the sleek black casket at the front. The scent of lilies and fresh roses hung heavily in the space — sweet and almost cloying, mixing with the faint trace of incense burning at the altar. I sat in the back row, my hands clasped so tightly in my lap that my knuckles had turned white. My body still ached from Henry's attack — bruised ribs protesting with every inhale, the split on my lip stinging sharply whenever I moved my mouth. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the storm raging inside me.
Christiana was gone.
