I stared at the screen, refusing to accept what Aurelia was showing me. My mind rejected the images flashing before my eyes—the hospital room, the machines, my daughter's still form.
"This is a lie," I snarled, grabbing Aurelia's arm. "You're punishing me."
Her emerald eyes remained cold, unmoved by my desperate grip. "Why would I lie about our daughter's death?"
"Because I broke my promise to her!" My voice cracked. "Because I favored Isabelle at the fair. This is you trying to hurt me, to make me feel guilty."
I released her arm and pointed at the frozen image of Violet on the screen. "Look! She's right there, waiting for me. She's fine!"
"Play it," Aurelia commanded quietly to someone behind the screen.
The footage continued. My eyes fixed on my daughter's small figure perched on the bench, her purple dress wrinkled from sitting so long. The timestamp in the corner read 6:15 PM.
"See? She's okay," I insisted, even as my wolf whined uneasily. "Tired, but okay."
