River & Wren’s StoryPower can be put into words.
“I am with the Van der Morns.”
Using that name turned the guts of whole Chicago inside out. Folks stare at you, get up, and run.
I was not born a Van der Morn, but I lived under their roof long enough to have their rules in my blood.
A family as cold as deep, dark winter.
Forsaken by God.
Law.
Shaped by rituals older than the city itself.
Controlled by the Board, we were more than just the mob, we were the Devils of this city.
But within all that darkness, there shone a ray of light.
Glimpsed between soft piano notes and smoke filtered-sunlight.
The first time I saw her, I lost my grip on reality.
We were young, and I didn’t understand how an angel could live amonst the devils.
I lost my mind as I talked to her.
“I can be whatever you want me to be.”
She didn’t laugh. Didn’t flirt back. But she didn’t walk away either.
“Nobody talks to me that way.”
A Van der Morn daughter. A hidden asset.
I should have just walked away.
But she didn’t let me.
