And the children…
They simply smirked.
Then turned away.
As if none of it mattered.
As if he had never mattered.
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't see.
All I could see…
Was Miso's lifeless eyes staring back at me.
Don Montecarlo's cane slammed against the marble floor with a sharp, bone-rattling crack as he stepped forward, the sound echoing through the hall and silencing everything in an instant. Two soldiers by the far door straightened. A conversation across the room died mid-word.
"Who did this?" His voice carried no trace of weakness. It was cold, commanding, and filled with restrained fury.
No one answered.
The six children stood there with their heads lowered, shoulders tense, putting on the perfect act of innocence. Anyone else might have believed them.
But I saw it.
I saw Gianna's lips twitch slightly, the faintest hint of a cruel smile before she quickly hid it. Her chin tilted up and to the left, just barely, the same angle I'd seen when she delivered her worst words. Then she caught herself and let it drop.
Enzo looked pale, his composure cracking. "I… I didn't know. I swear."