#Chapter 212: The Golden Knife

Moana

One moment, I was in the interrogation room with the police officer sitting across from me.

“Ms. Fowler?” he asked, standing from his seat with a worried look on his face. “Are you alright?”

My eyes were wide and my hands were shaking. I was standing with my back against the wall, feeling as though I couldn’t get a full breath into my lungs. The room felt as though it was closing in on me, and I felt trapped inside like an animal caught in a net.

And then, suddenly, I felt my knees buckle under me. I fell to the ground, and then everything went dark with only Edrick being the very last thing on my mind.

When I woke up, I was in a dark room. In fact, it was pitch black… But when I held my hands up in front of my face, I found that I could see my own hands perfectly. The room itself was black, like a void.

felt thick and heavy. There was no

This time, after a few minutes of waiting, there was finally an

a familiar female voice said. I immediately recognized

which I didn’t hear or see anything. It felt like an eternity, but also a split second at the same time. Was I sleeping?

to get to be too much, and I started having flashbacks when he started asking about the specifics of what happened in the warehouse. No matter how hard I tried to stay focused and keep myself level-headed, I couldn’t stop seeing Ethan’s gun in front

A long time passed, and I stayed in the black void. I moved around, or at least I felt like I was moving around, but

dead. If this was what it was like to be dead, I thought to myself, then it was awful and lonely. The thought of being conscious with nothing but a void around

suddenly felt someone else’s presence. A sort of presence, at least. I couldn’t tell if I just made it up in my mind or if it was real, and if someone else was here with me. But when I started to see Michael’s face materializing in front of me, I wished

of his body came into view as though he was loading into this new instance, like a virtual reality. His neck, then his shoulders, his arms and his chest… Then, eventually, his hands. He was

— with an ornate handle that had the head of a wolf on the end. He was holding

a rainy cliff with trees on either side. I felt a

The knife was raised, ready to stab me. When I turned around, the tip of the knife was nothing more

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