Prologue
Prologue
"...private Investor of Thorne Valley Logistics..."
The safe house was dark and cold. A single lamp burned on the table. Buried in the shadows beyond its glow, he sat watching the news.
The reporter spoke of the prison riot. The fire. The body.
"...with alleged ties to Valemont's crime syndicate." The scene cut from footage of flames devouring Aspenridge Penitentiary to an aerial view of the city. "Authorities confirm that he is now presumed dead."
He switched off the television and rose to his feet.
Let them think that.
He had work to do.
![[Moving to Galatea] What We Never Healed](https://cdn-gcs.inkitt.com/vertical_storycovers/ipad_b00b828931c645f2eccdf3396cb15498.jpg)
