“Misa! Royle!” Torren’s voice filtered through the front door of what Misa had learned was Royle’s empty apartment. Three sharp raps followed his calls before Royle flung open the door to let him in.
“Oh, thank the heveans!” Torren said when he saw the both of them. “I came as soon as I could. The purgehouse is a mess right now.”
“Torren.” Misa stood, letting the blanket Royle had put over her fall to the couch. The cooling cup of tea sat on the coffee table next to Royle’s cap, forgotten and untouched. “Hethel. Did they find Hethel?”
“That’s the problem.” Torren didn’t c***k a smile, still informing them as an officer of the law rather than a friend. He glanced back at the closed door before lowering his voice. “There were marks on the purgehouse carriage. I’m not sure
