Meanwhile, on Isla, the sun was already sinking into the horizon, bleeding gold and amber across the sky by the time Liam finally made it to the clinic.
The delay hadn't been without reason.
Earlier that day, the archaeological team had unearthed something extraordinary—an intact body of a young woman, preserved by time yet blackened by carbon, as if history itself had tried to erase her. Even in death, there was an undeniable air of dignity about her. The way she was laid to rest, the fragments of adornment still clinging to her remains… she was no ordinary woman.
A noble, perhaps.
The entire site had descended into controlled chaos since the discovery.
Which explained why the technician who had assisted Liam before was nowhere to be seen—likely buried in work, too consumed by the find to even spare a moment to clean himself up.
Instead, a different man stood behind the counter.
Early thirties, composed, and far less disheveled than the others outside.
