The basement was cold and damp, the faint scent of earth and dust clinging to the walls. A single light bulb flickered above the stairs, casting long, jagged shadows across the floor. She descended slowly, her dark hair catching the dim light, her dark eyes scanning the gloom. Her soul was strong, steady even here, in a place that reeked of secrets.

In the depths of the basement, farther back where the light couldn’t reach, Tate Langdon waited. The darkness wrapped around him like a shroud, only the faintest glimmer in his eyes betraying his presence. He had been sitting there for what felt like hours, the silence pressing in, rehearsing the words over and over until they dissolved into nothing. But the moment she appeared, all the things he had prepared evaporated, leaving only the hollow weight of his heartbeat and his slow, quiet breath.