Like she’s wired into my pulse.
“Santo…what aren’t you telling me?”
My breath stalls.
And in the space between her question and my answer, my mind fractures in two.
Tell her.
Don’t tell her.
She’s pregnant.
She deserves the truth.
She deserves peace.
She cannot be stressed.
She cannot be left in the dark.
Shetrustsme.
I swore I’d never lie to her.
But if I tell her everything…
The blood
The shattered glass.
The clothes missing.
The overturned table, she’ll spiral.
I can’t risk that.
Not today.
Not ever.
But I can’t lie.
Not toher.
Not once.
Not now.
My jaw locks. My pulse spikes.
I hold her tighter without meaning to.
I inhale slowly, an attempt to steady myself. It doesn’t work.
“Lila is missing,” I finally say, my voice lower than I intend. Rough. Controlled.
Vasilisa’s entire body goes still.
