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| [chapter one] |

" Ain't it a gentle sound, the rolling in the graves? "

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" Ain't it a gentle sound, the rolling in the graves? "

" Ain't it a gentle sound, the rolling in the graves? "

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

Boston, 2023













COLETTE'S HANDS WERE SHAKING AROUND THE GUN, something that was rather unusual for her since she had been deemed the best in her class. She was supposed to graduate last year, was supposed to be out on patrols right this moment, but she hadn't passed the test. If she were to fail now, they would get suspicious—even more than they already were. FEDRA was aware she was more than capable of the graduation rite, though what they didn't know was that last year, merely a day earlier, had she made a promise not to leave her sister behind.

They had given her one more chance, she knew they would, because FEDRA was low on foot soldiers and would take anyone willing. That's what she hadn't been last year—willing. She wasn't sure if she was now, not really, but she had to. She had to. For her sister. Her finger wandered off the trigger, but she clenched shut her eyes and put it back. There was a ringing in her ears, her heart thudding uncomfortably and the sweat gathering above her brows was dangerously close to falling into her eyes. Maybe she couldn't do it after all. Would they send her away? Reprimand her?

She wasn't sure if she could take another punishment and stay quiet. She was so fucking sick of staying quiet.

"Colette." A cold hand was laid on her shoulder, the leather so old and torn, yet the pungent smell never seemed to sway. With all her will she forced a few deep breaths into her lungs, no matter how hard they fought to reject her.

Leather, fuck, she thought. Shutting her eyes as her head fell forward in defeat. The amount of time she had to have been standing there with the gun raised had to be tremendous when it was Commander Willis who was stepping in. 

"I'm sorry," Colette whispered, hating the taste of the words on her tongue. Plastic couldn't have tasted falser. Shifting the gun in her grasp, she could feel him move in behind her and the corners of her mouth turned down in an instant.

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