Not gradual.Not merciful.
A fucking landslide.
I didn’t just infiltrate a church.
I infiltrated a family.
A family already bleeding from places that never healed right.A widow crowned under threat.Brothers sharpened into weapons.A child smuggled out of hell and taught to breathe fear instead of air.
And I—
I walked in like a fault line.
And split what little was left.
Guido’s face won’t let me go.
Not his terror this time.
His size.
How small he looked standing there in that doorway.
How little space he took up in a world that wants to kill him just for breathing.
Already traumatized.Already exiled.Already hunted.
And now?
Now marked.
By me.
My fingers dig into the stone behind me like I’m trying to sink into it—to become part of the wall and disappear without another body falling behind me.
My chest tightens. Breathing becomes shallow. It feels like there's no oxygen.
I’ve been hunted.
I’ve been beaten.
I’ve broken ribs and left men bleeding in alleys without asking if they deserved it.
I’ve dragged myself through hell and smiled when it burned.
But this—
This is different.
This is harm that stays breathing.
This is damage with a heartbeat.
And it’s staring at me from across the courtyard through Santino’s eyes.
He’s standing between Emiliano and me without even realizing it.
Like a shield.
