I can't.
If I look at her, she'll see. She'll know. She'll read the truth in my eyes like she always does.
So I stare straight ahead. At the casket. At the flowers. At the hole in the ground.
They're watching.
I feel them. Alejandro's men. Somewhere in the crowd. Somewhere beyond the cemetery gates. Eyes on us. Eyes on me.
Confirming. Reporting. Making sure I held up my end.
My stomach turns.
I want this over.
I want to walk away from this grave. From this family. From everything I've done and everything I'm about to do.
But I can't.
Everything started now. The first domino fell. The rest will follow.
There's no stopping it. No going back. No undoing what's been done.
I made my choice in that warehouse.
And now I have to live with it.
The priest continues. More words. More prayers. More empty promises about eternal rest and heavenly peace.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
I go still.
Marina glances at me. I feel her eyes on my face.
I don't react.
The phone buzzes again.
I need to see it.
I shift my weight. Slide my hand into my jacket pocket. Pull the phone out slowly.
Marina's attention returns to the service. To Sophia. To the grief unfolding before us.
I angle my body away. Use my jacket to shield the screen.
The message is from an unknown number.
But I know who sent it.
Body confirmed. DNA match positive. Lorenzo Sartori deceased. Proceed as planned.
My chest tightens.
Confirmed.
I pocket the phone. My hand is steady. My face reveals nothing.
