PREVIEW

... ause I feel something wet on my cheek.

Wet?

My lashes flutter against the sting of light filtering through the carriage windows. I blink—and the blur sharpens into shape.

Evelyn.

She’s lying beside me. On the floor of the carriage. Her face is pale, her hair loose from its pins, golden strands clinging to her damp cheeks. Her hands are shaking.

I glance down and see the glistening red in her palms.

Blood.

Is it mine?

The metallic sc ...

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