“Doing the right thing was always supposed to be enough.”— Mikah Abner
Mikah Abner spent fifteen years believing that doing the right thing was always enough. The occupation taught him otherwise. The murders in Vryehelm are teaching him something worse.
He is the best detective in the free south. Precise, controlled, buried in his work the way some men are buried in graves. He hides inside procedure because the alternative is feeling what sits underneath it, and he has spent fifteen years making sure nobody finds out what that is.
The Vryehelm case should be simple. A killer, a pattern, evidence. Instead it keeps folding back on itself. The suspect knows things about Mikah that nobody alive should know, and every time he gets closer to the truth he loses something he can't name.
He will get the name. What breaks him is why.