Chapter 15 · The Sister Behind The Door

"Get away from her!"

I screamed it, but it came out as a ghost's whisper.

I scrambled forward, palms scraping against the jagged stone of the collapsed vault. My soul felt like it had been through a meat grinder—hollow, shaking, useless. But there she was.

Just a few feet away, standing in the dust of the rubble, was a girl who looked exactly like me. Same jawline. Same messy hair. Same desperate eyes.

Except she was wearing a white gown that looked like a burial shroud. Her bare feet were stained with old, dried blood.

"Evelyn," she whispered.

The sound didn't hit my ears. It vibrated inside my skull.

"Who the hell are you?" I gasped, clutching my chest. "Where is my sister?"

Beside me, Carson groaned. He was on one knee, chest heaving. Black veins pulsed across his neck like living ink. He looked at the girl, then at me, his eyes narrowing into slits.

"Don't move," Carson growled.

He stepped in front of me, his shoulder blocking my view. "This is a trap. The Rook family doesn't keep 'sisters' in vaults. They keep weapons."

"She looks like me, Carson!" I shoved his arm, trying to peer around him.