Silence. Then, the old man's voice, sharp but laced with something unexpected—hesitation.
"Is that girl dead?"
Alaric could hear the shift in his grandfather's tone. It wasn't relief. It wasn't satisfaction. It was something closer to regret.
Emerald had left an impression on the old man. Despite everything, despite his initial opposition, she had earned his acknowledgment in some way.
And Alaric knew his grandfather well—if he truly despised someone, he wouldn't bother asking if they were dead. He wouldn't care.
Alaric's grip on Emerald tightened. "Almost."
He took a slow breath before continuing. "Grandpa, Teacher Greene is not like Yngrid. She doesn't have their family standing behind her. She doesn't have their family's backing. She only has me."
