Chapter 12 Faces Beneath the Flame

Sierra Lane's POV

I did not scream. I did not flinch. But something inside me cracked as I stared at the photograph.

It was tucked into the back of my mother's journal, curled at the edges, almost forgotten. In it, she stood barefoot in a circle of fire, surrounded by robed figures. Her hands were lifted, glowing, not with stage light or sun, but