Inheritance

Felicia didn't answer right away.

Her expression didn't shift, but something behind her eyes stilled, like a ripple freezing over in the wake of a thrown stone.

I stepped closer to the rune line.

"I didn't come here for your war stories," I said, voice low. "Not for your madness, or your jealousy, or even your grief. I came for Elliot."

Felicia's smile faded at last.

"What did you do to him?"

The chains creaked as she leaned back, but her eyes never left mine. For a breath, she was quiet. Contained. Then—

"When did he start speaking?" She asked.

I blinked. "What?"

She looked at me, unfazed. "Take a guess of the time he began to speak?"