Primrose flipped through the pages slowly, her fingers trembling as her eyes scanned one sketch after another, faces of children, both boys and girls, staring back at her from the paper.
Next to their drawings were things that looked like trophies—locks of hair, dried drops of blood, even tiny baby teeth.
Oh, it was horrifying.
The descriptions scrawled beside them weren't overly graphic, but they were disturbing enough to make Primrose's stomach turn.
She had to press her hand over her mouth, fighting the urge to throw up.
Any adult reading those words would immediately understand that those children had seen and experienced things no child ever should.
"Where … where is the dormitory they're staying in now?" she asked with a trembling voice.
Edmund closed the book without a word and gently took it from her hands. "He built the orphanage on the city border. I've already sent a soldier to go there and check the situation first."
