Page 157 of The Protective Gryphen

Almost Five

The Church of Scotland

In Town

The hunt for the past kept marching on, and it took a while to find the death certificate, but eventually, they did.

Oh, and it didn’t disappoint.

Not.

At.

All.

It actually gave them another moment on the timeline that help fill in the puzzle that was the allusive Ravensmire.

“This is wild,” Ian said, pointing when he found it. “Look!”

Gryphen checked it out.

The minute he saw it, the one thing that stood out was the year.

“Wait! She died in March of fifteen ninety-four?” Gryphen asked.

Ian nodded.

“Apparently. Maybe it was during childbirth?” he asked. “Maybe it was after childbirth. All I know is her life was short.”

Ian thought about it.

“Then why is she singing a lullaby in the castle? She had to have given birth and seen her child, right?”

He stared at him.

“Baby, not to sound logical or anything, but you’re basing that off of the fact that I heard something. Maybe it was my imagination. Maybe I didn’t actually hear that, and I was dreaming.”

He didn’t believe that.

Marines didn’t hear imaginary things. They’d been trained to hear the slightest sound.

Footsteps.

Talking.

Singing.

Ian put his faith in Gryphen’s skills as a well-trained Marine.

“Do you find yourself hearing things often?” Ian asked.

Gryphen shook his head.

Exactly.

That was what he was talking about.

“Or maybe she’s trying to tell us something. She’s not in her tomb, and there’s another body down there without a name on it. Some wonky shit went down here, and Ceit wants the truth to come out. I’ll figure it out.”

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