Page 164 of Without a Trace
I crossed my arms. “Didn’t realize you were staying.”
She smiled faintly, eyes still fixed on the sea. “Didn’t realize you were the heir.”
I stayed a few feet back. “So you knew.”
“Not everything.” Her voice was quieter now. “But I knew something didn’t add up. You were always going to be important, Scarlett. Just didn’t know how.”
My name in her mouth felt strange. Familiar and foreign all at once.
“Why are you really here?” I asked.
Brielle finally looked at me. Her eyes were sharp, but not unkind. “Because you bonded. And the moment that happened, everything changed.”
I squinted at her. “How’d you find us?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Could ask you the same.”
My stomach twisted. “My phone?”
“I didn’t track it,” she said. “But someone did. Someone gave me the coordinates.”
The wind shifted, carrying the scent of salt—and something older. Ancient. Untouched.
I couldn’t name it, but it stirred something low in my ribs.
I stared at her. “Tell me about the Red Veil.”
Brielle’s smile thinned. “That’s not something you get in one conversation.”
“I’m not asking for a history book. Just give me something.”
She watched me for a moment, then stepped closer.
“I was Hollow Order once,” she said quietly. “Raised in it. Trained for it. But the Red Veil… the Red Veil was the truth they tried to bury.”
My spine prickled.
“We weren’t the enemy,” she went on. “We were the reflection. Formed from the same root, broken by the same betrayal. One side guards power. The other claims it.”
“And I’m what—some fucked-up accident in the middle?”
“No.” Her voice dropped. “You’re the reason both sides are scared.”
My fingers slid over the silver bracelet, tracing the cold edge like it might answer something I hadn’t thought to ask.
Brielle’s eyes dropped to the bracelet on my wrist. “When you’re ready to understand what that really means…” Her voice hung there, unfinished. “I’ll be around.”
I narrowed my gaze. “You offering to be my mentor now?”
A slow grin curved her mouth. “I’m offering the truth. Not the filtered version they gave you.”
The wind shifted again, tugging strands of hair across my face. I didn’t answer. Just stared past the palms, out toward the horizon—where everything ended or began depending on who you asked.
And Brielle stood there, calm as ever, beautiful, dangerous, unreadable. Not pushing. Not pleading. Just waiting. A storm in perfect control.
A door I hadn’t opened yet—but I could feel it. The pull.
Scarlett
