"Cassandra?" Alina asked, her voice barely a whisper. A deep crease formed on her forehead as she tried to make sense of what Elena was saying. The name felt like a heavy weight in her chest, pulling her down into a sea of confusion. "Impossible," she breathed out, shaking her head slowly.
To Alina, Cassandra was one of the sweetest, most gentle women she had ever met. She was always there with a soft smile and a kind word. She was the person who made the cold Thorn mansion feel a little bit more like a home. To think that this same woman—the one who had been so motherly and supportive—was the monster behind Elizabeth Vaughn's death was too much to handle. It felt like the ground was shifting beneath her feet.
