"You can't read it?" He asked, and when she shook her head, his mouth settled into a flat line. "That's Vaelor's cavemen handwriting. I wasn't even supposed to take anything from his diary, but this page had already come loose, fallen out. It says, the love of my life made me kill her."
Viola's brows pulled together, staring hard at the writing as though sheer focus might make it suddenly legible, before she looked back up at her husband.
"What does that even mean? Did she do something he believed made her deserve to die? Or did she ask him to do it? Why would she ever ask for that?" She whispered, none of it making any real sense to her, why would any woman ask for her own death, knowing full well what it would unleash, especially the feud it would spark between mermaids and werewolves for generations after?
And if Vaelor truly loved her, why would he have listened to her, agreed to kill her? None of it added up for Viola, and she frowned down at the paper in her hands.
