“Did I hear an apology?” Luca bends his head as if to hear what Lorenzo is saying, but the only sounds that leave Barbini’s mouth are choking noises. “Nope, I don’t think it was an apology,” he says and thrusts the corkscrew into Lorenzo’s neck again, from the front this time.
I shut my eyes, not able to watch the bloodbath anymore. But I can’t shut out the whimpering. The choking sounds. I swallow bile.
A minute or so later, the choking sounds cease, and I will myself to open my eyes. Luca is standing in front of Lorenzo, corkscrew in hand. His right arm is covered in blood. His front, too. I move my gaze to Lorenzo, or really his body, and gasp. There’s a long red line around his neck, blood pouring from at least a dozen puncture wounds and flowing down his torso. Bile gathers in my th
