My name is Levi and I swear I didn't kill her. Sure, I was the only person found at the scene of the crime, and maybe her blood was literally on my hands, but I can explain all that. I'm a journalist writing for Kansas City's magical community-it's not that I'm nosey; digging around in other people's business is my job. So when I suspected that a woman had been cursed, it's only natural that I went to learn more. I couldn't have known she'd be dead before I arrived. Seriously, I write headlines about bridge trolls and solstice events, not murder. The Wizard's Council thinks I did it, and I'm going to have a hard time convincing them otherwise. Who are they going to believe, an autistic journalist with a smart mouth and a rap sheet, or the mountain of evidence I left behind when I fled the scene of the crime? I have to solve the murder. The killer is still out there, ready to strike again so long as they aren't caught. To crack the case with the Council on my tail, I'll have to move fast, stay low, and find a way to cover my tracks. If I can't, the real killer will go free, and I'll take the fall. I've been to the Council's prison once and if I go back I know I'll never make it out alive. ... The following work contains depictions of violence, mortal peril, death, police violence, and psychological distress. Reader discretion is advised.