15

“It’s your father, Crewel Sotra,” he said softly.

Wiley looked at it, feeling numb. She didn’t remember his face, had forgotten long ago what he looked like, except for the dark hair. Dressed in the black uniform of the Haunt, he had an indigo shirt under the leather vest, and a red Celtic knot, a symbol of rank, on his shoulder.

“He loved your spirit. He would have been proud of you for surviving the way you did. He was a good man,” Jayems said quietly.

An ache started behind her eyes and spread to her throat. She looked down to hide her expression, but her eyes kept returning to her father’s face. Afraid to cry in front of Jayems, she laid the picture