It was only when Yeeran buried the body that Furi suspected who the woman had once been to Yeeran. And now Furi had killed her. Tears born of guilt seeped from her eyes and she slammed her fist on the side of the throne, intent on turning her regret into anger. The baobab, solid and unmovable, didn’t quake in the face of her pitiful struggle. Will Yeeran ever forgive me for killing Salawa?
