“I am not a charity, Elias. I am a broker.” Her voice was low, a cello string wound too tight. “You’ve come to pay?”
“The Lock of Lament,” Io said, finally turning. Her gaze fell on the key, and for the first time, something flickered across her face. Hunger. “You stole it from the Sunken Vault.” mistreci io
Outside, the rain kept falling. Inside, a door prepared to open. “I am not a charity, Elias
“If you ever owe me again… I expect interest.” “I am not a charity