As I turn back to smile at the begrudging king I’ve dragged along, my gaze snags on a familiar shade of purple. Kitt nearly slams into me with how abruptly I plant my feet. An emotion more potent than rage begins to boil within me at the sight of that lilac hair. Kitt’s mouth is moving, but I don’t hear a word that falls from it. Instead, I’m standing at the edge of the dance floor, staring at Adena’s murderer. It’s as though I’m back in the center of that Pit, cradling her broken body with my eyes locked on the culprit, just as they are now.
