"Today is the day," a voice said over a phone call. "This time, make sure she's dead, understood?"
"Yes, your grace," another voice answered.
"This better not turn out to be a total waste of time and resources, kill her and anyone who gets in the way."
—------
The day of the funeral finally came. It was eleven thirty in the morning, and Everly stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself. She wore a black knee-length dress for her mother's funeral. She looked solemn but graceful. Her dark hair fell gently over her shoulders.
She stared at herself for a while and sighed, her eyes filled with sadness. "Let's just get this over with," she murmured to herself.
Ivan walked into the room, clad in a black tuxedo suit, his hair neatly combed back. He walked over to where Everly stood and placed a hand on her shoulder.
