ELENA
THE QUESTION CAME OUTsofter than I intended.
But it landed between us like a blade.
His breath caught.
His eyes shifted—searching my face.
His throat worked.
Once.
Twice.
But no words came.
Only silence.
Then—he looked away.
Just like that.
Cutting the moment cleanly in two.
“Your heart will no longer be taken out for Violet. I’ll send female doctors to tend to your wounds,” he said, his voice returning—colder now.
“Violet... she can die peacefully.”
A pause.
“I’ll see to it that she is honored after her death.”
The words sounded forced.
Like something he was dragging out of himself piece by piece.
He walked to the exit.
Fingers curled around the latch, tightening on the metal.
“You forgot one thing,” I said.
My voice was weaker now, but it still cut through the silence.
He paused.
His hand stopped mid-motion, pivoting slightly.
“What?” he asked quietly.
“I asked if you love Violet. You said you can’t love anyone. Then I asked if you love me... I know the answer—a resounding no. You hate me. That’s obvious. But I need you to say it.”
He stood frozen.
Chest rising and falling slowly.
His gaze locked onto mine once more, and for a brief second—I thought he might say it.
