Page 62 of Innocent Until Proven Witch

Row looks miserable. Gideon looks annoyed but neither speaks. Not because they agree. Because they know the vote is already decided. Aldric remains silent, watching. Always watching.

The chamber chairman finally clears his throat. "Mr. Blackwater.You're dismissed."

The words don't surprise me. The room has been looking for a reason all afternoon. I gather my papers. Several council members visibly relax. The sight makes me sick, as though removing me somehow removes the problem.

Row rises halfway from his seat.

“Stay,” I mutter beneath my breath and he understands immediately.

I head toward the door. The room resumes talking before I even leave. Already moving on. Already convincing themselves they've done something useful.

My hand closes around the door handle. Then I pause. One final thought occurs to me. I turn back.

The room quiets again. I look directly at Aldric, then at everyone else.

"When the truth comes out..." The chamber falls silent. "...I hope all of you remember this meeting."

Nobody answers and I leave anyway. The door closes behind me, and the noise immediately fades.

The hallway feels strangely peaceful. For a second I simply stand there, breathing, listening, thinking. I've lost whatever influence my family name once carried. I've lost any political support I might have had. The council has made its choice.

Fine, let them.

The further they push Reina away, the more determined I become to uncover who's really behind this. Because if today's meeting proved anything, it's that Moonhaven's leaders have stopped looking for the truth.

I haven't.

23

REINA

The lighthouse is quiet. For once. No storms batter the cliffs. No council members demand explanations. No fishermen arrive with rumors. Just silence. The kind that allows thoughts to grow too loud.

I sit at the table surrounded by papers. Finn's suspect lists. Tunnel sketches. Council records. Pages copied from my grandmother's diary. The investigation has spread across nearly every surface in the room.

My gaze moves over the names again, then again. Something is here. I can feel it. A thread we've missed, a connection just beyond reach. The frustration grows with every passing moment.

A sharp knock interrupts my thoughts. Before I can stand, another follows, then another, harder, more aggressive. My stomach tightens. That isn't a visitor. It's a demand.

The door suddenly bursts open. Several harbor authorities enter without waiting for permission. Behind them stand council guards, and more people continue filing inside. The sight steals the breath from my lungs.

"What is this?"

Nobody answers immediately. The lead officer unfolds a document. "Reina Quinn." The formal tone makes my pulse quicken. "You are required to submit to an official search."

"A search?" I react.

"Related to the recent disappearances."

The room suddenly feels colder. "This is ridiculous."

The officer remains unmoved. "Step aside."

I don't. The authorities move anyway.

Drawers open, shelves are emptied, cabinets searched, books scattered. One guard overturns a stack of records. Another begins searching the upper floor and anger rises inside me

. "What exactly are you looking for?" I ask.