“I’m sorry,” said Seraphine. “But your friend Verity doesn’t exist. Or if she did, she doesn’t anymore.” “Are you saying Cressida killed Verity and stole her identity?” “It’s very likely, yes.” “But that means …” Cressida Roseblood, not Verity de Wilde, had been Rune’s closest confidant for two years—without her knowing. This whole time, Rune had trusted and confided in a murderer. In the girl who’d tortured Gideon and killed his little sister.
