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35

35

ADRIAN

The scene of the accident, or rather, the staged scene, offered no clues. Where was Annalise? Where were the Duke and Duchess?

Panic, a cold serpent coiling around my heart, tightened its grip. Every passing minute felt like an eternity. I couldn’t just stand there, helpless. I had to do something.

Turning towards the nearest group of startled partygoers, I launched into a frantic search. “Has anyone?” I barked, my voice raw with urgency. “Has anyone seen a young woman, with lavender hair and… well, fire in her eyes?”

The group exchanged bewildered glances. “Sorry, can’t say I have,” one man mumbled, fiddling with his cravat. “Haven’t seen anyone like that.”

The others echoed his sentiment, their polite but clueless responses doing little to quell the rising tide of fear within me.

Then, a glimmer of hope. A wizened old man, leaning heavily on a cane, shuffled forward. His rheumy eyes held a flicker of… recognition?

“Young miss with purple hair?” he rasped, his voice barely
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