I just sat outside my room with my knees pulled tight against my chest. Dried blood stained my palms. Salt clung to my lips from crying I didn’t even remember doing.
Then, sometime after midnight—
A cough broke the silence.
Vincenzo’s voice followed immediately, sharp and panicked.
“Lena—look at me. What is it? Tell me where it hurts.”
I didn’t move.
Her voice suddenly rose, filling the hallways like a storm trying to break through the walls.
“I can’t breathe!” she gasped. “Vincenzo—my chest… my stomach… she cursed me! That urn… ever since she brought it into this house, something’s been wrong!”
Footsteps thundered. Vincenzo paced. Cursed under his breath.
“That woman…”
Lena’s voice dropped again, trembling now, soft like she was on the edge of collapse.
“I heard the maids… they said she brought poison. Something meant for me. Maybe she hid it in the urn… maybe she wanted me gone.” She gasped shakily. “I’m scared, Vincenzo… I’m pregnant… I don’t want to die…”
The door burst open.
Vincenzo stormed in.
His rage hit the room before his body did—thick, suffocating, sharp enough to make my skin crawl.
He grabbed my wrist and yanked me up so fast my feet barely had time to move.
“You did this.”