Rowena
The kitchen smelled like fresh coffee and pancakes as I sat at the counter, finishing up my breakfast. I yawned, scrolling through my phone as the latest news headlines popped up on the screen.
Next to me, my father, a tall and elegant man with slightly graying hair and a neat beard, flipped through the newspaper, and beside him my mother sipped her coffee. It was a relaxing Saturday morning, especially with the sun streaming in through the window.
“Hey, look at this,” I said, holding my phone up. “They released a list of potential suspects for that missing princess. I wonder who it could be.”
“Likely someone not from around here,” my father said casually without looking up from his newspaper.
As I scrolled through the list of names, though, my eyes widened upon
