Chapter 393

• The air turned to stone. No one spoke. The dim, freezing room felt like a silent, lonely grave.
• “I only have her left. Why won’t you leave even her to me? Why… where did she go?” Joaquin Latham’s sobs came rough and raw. He crouched, arms wrapped over his head, yanking at his tangled hair.
• Dan Funnel’s sharp eyes caught the strands of gray threaded through Joaquin’s hair. He wasn’t even thirty, but losing Zayla Steele had aged him years in a few days.