"Sofia!" His voice behind me, concerned but not yet alarmed.
But I'm already running.
The lake stretches dark despite the morning light, its surface like black glass. The woods are darker still, pressing in from all sides. I run without direction, without a plan. Just the animal need to escape. From Mikhail's ghost. From Alexei's eyes when he learns the truth. From myself.
From the girl who sat at dinner knowing her father would die in three hours and said nothing.
Branches tear at my jacket, leaving marks I don't feel. Roots catch my feet, sending me stumbling. I catch myself on rough bark that tears my palms, but I just keep running. The physical pain is nothing compared to what's ripping through my chest.
My mind screams with every step:
Murderer.
Traitor.
Monster.
I killed my father. Not with a gun. Not with a blade. With silence. With a promise to a boy who made me choose between his life and my family's.
And I chose him.
How can I face Marco? Tell him I knew? Tell him I sat there eating Maria's pasta while our father drove to his death? Tell him I chose a Russian boy over our blood?
How can I face Nico? The brother who pulled me from the wreckage, who trained me to be strong, who made a pact of truth with me? Tell him I was the wreckage all along? That every lie pales compared to the one I've been living?
How can I face Dante, who lost his voice trying to protect us from an ambush I could have prevented with five words?
How can I face myself?
The memories keep coming, relentless now that the dam has broken. Mikhail's face that last night, tears in his eyes. "I'll fix this. I'll find another way. Just don't say anything. Please, Sofia. Trust me."
And I did. I trusted him over every instinct screaming to warn my father.
I run until my legs give out, muscles cramping, lungs burning. Collapse against a tree, miles from the lakehouse. The sun has moved across the sky. Hours have passed without me noticing. The woods are thick here, and there's no path back even if I wanted one.
The half-heart bracelet is gone, dropped somewhere behind me. Lost in the woods or back in that room where everything shattered. Only weeks of carrying it after finding it in my old room, and now I finally understand what it meant. What it always meant. A badge of my betrayal.
Now I understand everything.
And I wish I didn't.
24 - Sofia
Ican’t stay here forever. I need to keep moving, and suddenly I am, crashing through underbrush until my lungs burn, branches tearing at my clothes. Hours pass in a blur of movement.
I reach a road eventually, flag down a truck heading toward Chicago, mumble something through numb lips. The driver doesn't ask questions; maybe he sees the kind of broken that's past helping.
The two-hour journey stretches into eternity. Dusk is settling by the time we reach the city limits. I walk the rest of the way, my feet throbbing with each step, blood seeping through my shoes from miles of pavement. I haven't eaten, haven't stopped moving since I ran from the lakehouse, driven by one thought burning through the numbness: Marco needs to know the truth before it destroys me completely.
The guards at the gate recognize me but hesitate.
"Miss Rosetti?" Lipi's voice wavers. "Should we… should we call ahead?"
I shrug, not trusting my voice. They make the call while I stand there swaying. Eventually I remember who I am, Sofia Rosetti, and I stride up toward the manor, trying not to see it as home. I'm not here for forgiveness; I'm here for judgment, to confess the sin that's been eating me alive.
Marco's study smells of his afternoon espresso, that blend he imports from Sicily. The familiar scent makes bile rise in my throat. He wasn't expecting me, his face shifting from relief toconcern to alarm as he takes in my appearance: clothes torn from the woods, hair tangled, something fundamentally broken in my expression.
"Sofia? Jesus, what happened? Where's—"
