Rise of the forgotten general

Whispers in the dark

The next morning came with a thin fog rolling over the estate grounds, blurring the garden, muting the color of the flowers. It was the kind of morning that felt too quiet, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

Fiona stood by the window, watching mist curl through the trees. Cole was outside, inspecting the perimeter with two of his men. He moved with the same calm precision as always, but something in his shoulders looked heavier now, as if Trojan’s voice still lingered somewhere in his mind.

Fiona pressed her fingers to the cold glass. The weight of everything since that night hadn’t left her. The warehouse, the photograph, the call, all of it tangled inside her like a web she couldn’t escape.

Part of her wanted to believe Cole could fix this. Another part whispered that maybe he was the reason it had started in the first place.

She hated that thought. But she couldn’t make it stop.

When Cole finally came back inside, his expression unreadable, Fiona turned toward him. “You