Chapter 87 – Red Moon
Isolde sat on the tired, worn-out couch of Emily's little house, her eyes locking onto the woman herself — an average face with dirty-blonde hair and black eyes — whose expression was hard as stone as she sat across from Isolde.
The young girl, Emma, was sleeping beside Emily, her mind sent into unconsciousness by a proficient, painless strike to the head from her own mother.
"Who are you?" Emily asked, pressing her lips into a bloodless line, her eyes fixed on Isolde the way a cat watches its prey.
"You know well who I am, Emily Stone." Isolde said with a straight face, no change in her tone. "After all, does anyone else know of your hidden identity besides us? If yes, tell me now so I can act accordingly."
She narrowed her eyes. "We don't need loose ends for what we are about to do."
"Yapping, yapping and yapping." Emily grated, "You still haven't told me who you are." She was unwilling to be caught. "And I don't know what—!"
