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The Fifth Victim
Category: Thriller
The garden had been her mother’s pride, and now it was hers.
The letter was still on the table, unopened, as it had been for three days.
It was the kind of night when secrets refused to stay buried.
Some doors, once opened, can never be closed again.
The sword was heavier than she expected, but she did not lower it.
She had learned long ago not to trust promises.
The market was bustling with merchants, their voices a chorus of bargains and boasts.
He stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the waves crashing below.
The end.