Syria’s POV
“What?”
That was the first word that came out of his mouth. He looked at me like he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. His eyes were wide, searching my face for any hint that I might be lying. I met his gaze directly, refusing to back down.
I swallowed hard and reached for the collar of my shirt. My fingers trembled as I pulled the fabric down to reveal the dark bruise wrapped around my neck like a collar.
“He almost killed me,” I said. My throat still hurt when I swallowed, as if the memory of his hands was enough to make me feel them again. “See this? He did this to me. He strangled me.”
For a split second, I saw something violent flash in my uncle’s eyes, something raw and murderous that made my stomach twist. His face went red with rage, and when he spoke again,
