CRASH!
A broken flower vase.
Trembling hands.
Falling tears.
A delicate porcelain vase, once holding beautiful arranged flowers, hit the floor and exploded into a hundred jagged shards. Water darkened the rug, petals scattered.
Cecilia stood amidst the wreckage, her body locked in a tremor that seemed to originate from her very bones. Her hands were trembling violently, the fine muscles in her fingers twitching with a life of their own.
Tears fell. They tracked down her pale cheeks unimpeded, dripping from her chin onto the front of her dressing gown, leaving dark, spreading stains.
She didn't sob. She couldn't. The breath was locked in her chest, a solid, painful block of ice.
Her vision swam, the elegant script on the paper in her grasp blurring into sinister, inky worms. The message had been delivered moments ago, a sealed and nondescript report from Angelica's deepest, most reliable source in the capital.
It was the confirmation she'd asked for, the truth she'd sought.
