Like a rose, thorn and petal. Or a knife, handle and blade, Adeline was a paradigm. So when she walked into the warehouse, soaked to the bone from rain and watery blood dripping off a glass photo, Grae should've known she'd done something drastic.
The gun he'd swung to the door froze in his hand. He didn't say anything at first, just stared at the photograph. The frame's edges were cracked, one ...