Chapter 86 Epilogue

• Zinnia
• Weeks had passed since the night Roman fell. Weeks during which the city had slowly begun to stitch itself back together, but the scars both on the streets and in my chest remained raw. I walked along the riverwalk just before dawn, the air crisp and biting, the water reflecting the faint orange glow of streetlights. The city was quiet, almost peaceful, yet I felt its tension lingering, like a memory that refused to fade.
• I kept my hands in my coat pockets, trying not to think about the bloodshed, the screams, the heat of fire against my skin. But it always came back. Every morning I woke with it pressed against my chest, a weight that no sleep could lift. Hermine’s face was never far from my thoughts—her courage, her sacrifice, the last time I saw her standing against Roman’s men while Reed and I escaped.