I screamed, slamming against the shards of broken glass. Hot lines cut across my skin. Blood soaked through my skirt.
A soft voice called his name. “Gio?” Isolde appeared in the doorway, her eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. “I’m sorry… Did I come at a bad time?”
Her foot slipped. A candlestick toppled, the flame catching the scattered photos. The edges of the portraits curled, blackened, and smoke rose as Evander and Sabrina’s faces disintegrated into ash.
Gio froze, his expression twisting into something I’d never seen, something that tore at the edges of me. Then, almost gently, he scooped Isolde into his arms as if she were fragile glass.
“I didn’t mean to,” she choked out, tears streaking her face. “Please don’t be angry.”
For a heartbeat, he was nothing but panic. His hands moved over her cheeks, soft and careful, like a man trained to fix any hurt with soothing gestures. “It’s okay,” he murmured into her hair. “It’s fine.”
That look—how he softened, how he rushed—was a blade turning in my chest. I ripped free from the guard’s grip and shoved him. “Wake up! She’s not Sabrina! She’s a cheap imitation who had surgery just to look like my sister!”
Gio’s expression hardened into ice. He gripped my wrist so tightly I feared he might snap a bone. “I know she isn’t,” he said, voice low and controlled. “I know. But can you bring Sabrina back to me? No!”
I opened my mouth, wanting to scream that she was gone, that nothing could fix this—but all I tasted was coppery metal. Tears stung my eyes. He was so close I could see the heat rising from his skin.
“Tie her up,” he ordered. He stepped back, watching me like a judge presiding over a verdict.
Rough ropes cut into my wrists as they forced me to my knees in the center of the ancestral hall—the place where I had once run free as a child. My dress was drenched with blood. Smoke from the burned photos stung my nostrils.
I knelt there, helpless, while he cradled the woman I’d once loved him into hating. I knelt while Sabrina and Evander’s portraits blackened into nothing. I knelt, thinking about how long I had been falling and how there might not be any ground left to hit.
When Gio finally walked out with Isolde, he didn’t glance back. The door slammed so hard the floor shivered. Darkness swallowed the hall. My knees hit the cold stone as I collapsed. Tears fell freely, cutting paths through the grime and blood.
I looked at what remained of Sabrina’s portrait. Half of it was gone—the part with her smile vanished. I laughed bitterly through my tears. “See that, sister? He can’t even tell what’s real anymore.”
I pressed my head to the floor, whispering to no one. “I’ll see you soon. When I get there, tell him yourself, okay? Show him how foolish he’s become.”
Outside, I could faintly hear Gio’s footsteps. The click of his lighter repeated, over and over. I imagined Isolde’s sweet, high voice next, the one that used to make him melt.
“Gio… you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”
“Go home,” he said flatly.
“But I want to stay with you—”
“I said go.”
Eventually, she left. I heard her heels fading down the hallway. Then silence settled. He remained, though, somewhere near, perhaps staring at the door, perhaps thinking about breaking it open—but he didn’t. He left me, as always, alone.
I don’t remember falling asleep. When they finally untied me, the sun was already dipping low. My legs refused to move properly. My knees were black and blue, my back aching as if someone had beaten me with a bat.
A servant tried to help, but I waved them off. “Don’t. I’m going out.”
They looked frightened to argue. I didn’t have much time left anyway. I just wanted to see my parents—just once.
Across the street, the old house glowed with soft, warm light. For a moment, I almost turned back. But the door opened.
The old housekeeper gasped. “Miss Liora? My God… it’s really you—”
Before he could finish, my father appeared. Pale, then red with anger. “Who told you to come here?”
“D-dad…”
“Get out!” he roared. “You killed Sabrina, and you still have the face to come here?”
My mother stormed out behind him, belt in hand. “We don’t have a daughter like you! You’re cursed!” She swung hard, the belt lashing my back again and again. I didn’t move. I didn’t even try to block it.
“I just wanted to see you,” I whispered. “Just for a minute.”
“What’s there to see?” He kicked my leg. “Go back to your husband. Go die there if you must!”
Die? I smiled bitterly and nodded.
Rain fell suddenly, a relentless downpour that turned the street into mud. They shoved me, I slipped, the belt falling from my mother’s hand but left unretrieved.
I stayed on my knees and bowed three times, forehead touching the wet pavement each time. “Take care of yourselves,” I murmured quietly. “I won’t bother you again.”
Then I turned and walked. Rain soaked me, mingling with my tears until I couldn’t tell one from the other. I walked without knowing where I was going.
A sleek black car slowed beside me, headlights slicing through the storm. The window rolled down. Gio’s face appeared, unreadable and stone-cold, a cigarette perched between his fingers.
He looked at me like I was a stranger.
“Get in the car,” he ordered.
