Chapter 505

• Proserpina
• For a long while, I was a shivering mess. The photograph had shaken me, and I clung to my husband’s broad shoulders, shivering uncontrollably. It was not just the picture; it was vulgar and violent as it was; it was because I recognized the background where the photograph had been taken.
• It was an exact replica of the place where Dmitri Rudenko had held me captive after kidnapping me. The gray cell walls, the gloom—everything was the same, except for the gruesome scaffold on which the poor woman’s body dangled.