Capering Rogues and Feathered Foes

Previously

…My breath hitched. Little bird? Clumsy? Took the bait? He was talking about Analia. And the necklace… it wasn’t stolen. He was pawning it. Gambling debts. The whispers coalesced into a horrifying, yet strangely predictable, truth. Bartholomew wasn’t a victim; he was the architect of this whole charade. I backed away from the door, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped hummingbird. The urge to flee, to pretend I’d heard nothing, was overwhelming. But