Chapter 37 The Friction in the Silk

The stage lights are a white-hot interrogation.

I can’t see the Board. I can’t see my mother in the back row or Elias in the wings. All I can see is the dust motes dancing in the light and the silhouette of Caspian Thorne standing three feet away from me.

The cello starts, that low, guttural groan...

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