Chapter 352

I barely glanced at the photograph before nausea churned my stomach. With a swift motion, I tossed it aside.

Kieran, unfazed, methodically sifted through each image. The final photograph wasn't of Gemma. Instead, it was Damon's grave.

The photo had been altered.

Before Damon's headstone lay a human head, blood seeping from every orifice, with a striking red mole on the forehead.

The head was mine.