Book 5: Press Your Luck

Ingrid

I yawn and scrub my hands over my face. Morning sunlight peeks around the edges of the curtains, and Cirocco still hasn’t stopped fucking pacing.

“I talked to him,” he says for what feels like the thousandth time. “And he didn’t say a word.”

“He was protecting you.” I lean back against a pile of cushions and wonder if I can’t sneak in a little nap before breakfast. “From Kaloni, not that he knew it then.”

Cirocco shakes his head.

“What do I have to say to make you believe me?” I ask, also for the thousandth time. I’ve explained everything I know—which was much harder without all my notes, though my best recreation of them litters the table in front of me. I’ve gone through a detailed timeline, explained to him anything he had questions about. And now, I’m just tired.

Finally, he sighs and drops onto the couch at my feet. “Nothing.”

“Glad I wasted this night, then. Enjoy breakfast without me.” I roll over, away from hi