When the Family 212

It was the painting.

$ , 81%;

Finished

That massive, ominous eye staring from the wall–a single, ink–black pupil radiating a bone–deep chill. The kind of cold that crept down the spine, clung to the skin like invisible fret.

Jean’s scalp prickled. Her brows furrowed in discomfort.

“You’re awake?”

Queenie’s voice broke the silence as she sat down across from her, separated only by a plain, rustic wooden table.

She smiled–but the smile was shallow, her eyes frosted with concealed menace.

Jean opened her mouth, but no words came out at first.

Because she’d caught the scent.

It clung faintly to her clothes–a subdued, aged aroma, like mellow sandalwood soaked in time. It brought with it an oddly grounding calm.

just

kind of sedative incense in my room–something that made me feel like I was having sleep

a special calming incense developed by the Secret Service. Even the smallest amount induces a foggy, dreamlike

shrugged with faux innocence. “Couldn’t bring

Here…

gaze swept across

ancient table and the walls covered in ink landscape paintings, it was

interrogation room–but this one was utterly foreign.

is this?” she asked, voice

you wouldn’t tell the truth… so I had no choice but to bring you to a higher–level interrogation

stressed the words higher–level,

curling in disdain. “Queenie, you’re a real piece of

13:32

Che, 6 May MM.

Chapter 212 You’re Strange

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Finished

“What are you, some kind of obsessive control freak? You won’t stop

faded.

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