I rolled on my bed all through the night I couldn't sleep well.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Marco Santini’s face in my mind. The few times I’d encountered him in the building polite, professional, unremarkable. The way Maria had described him. Fifteen years of loyal service.
What if I was wrong? The sudden feeling of guilt began to creep in.
What if my paranoia born from seven years of running, of trusting no one, of seeing threats in every shadow had turned an innocent man into a suspect?
But what if I was right?
What if that perfectly unremarkable exterior hid someone who’d helped orchestrate my family’s murder? Who sent those messages? Who tried to have me abducted?
My mind was restless. The questions circled endlessly until dawn finally broke.
I found Dante already up, dr
