Chapter 8
Queenie’s face drained of color.
How did Luke know?
Panic gripped her chest as she frantically shook her head. “N–no, Luke, that’s not true—”
But the look in his eyes made the words die in her throat.
There was a cold, merciless glint in them.
A deep, bone–chilling fear surged through her. She turned to run, only to slam straight into a wall of towering men.
Luke let out a loud, maniacal laugh.
“If it weren’t for you, Natalie never would’ve left me. Everything I did… you were the one who pushed me. You poisoned me
against her. Natalie suffered because of you, so what makes you think you get to walk away unscathed? You need to pay for what
you’ve done!”
With that said, Luke gestured to the towering men.
Queenie collapsed to her knees, tears and snot streaming down her face as she pleaded, “Luke, please! I was wrong, I—”
Before she could finish, a rough hand clamped over her mouth.
Her screams were muffled as she was dragged away.
A few days later, Queenie’s body was found floating in a river.
Her stomach had been slit open, and inside were the severed pieces of her legs.
The grotesque expression on her face made it clear she had endured unimaginable torment before her death.
Meanwhile, I was far away in Meldora, and I knew nothing of this.
At that moment, I was wearing prosthetic legs, struggling through rehabilitation exercises at the hospital.
