[Brielle’s POV]
I stare at L in disbelief as his words settle over me.
Kill him.
Kill him.
He was actually going to kill this man. Was he going to do it with me standing there? Could I possibly bear witness to such a thing? Even if he works with the man who killed my parents, do I want to see him die?
“Come along, little sonbird,” L says, unlocking the door in front of us and ushering me into the dim room, which smells strongly of mold and something coppery. “Don’t be afraid; I’m with you.”
Fighting the urge to run away, I allow myself to be led inside so that my eyes come to rest on a figure resting on a slab. The person’s hands and toes drip from where their fingers and toes have been removed.
Feeling sick, I start to realize that the coppery scent that I’m smelling is the scent o
