Amelia’s POV
“You don't love me!”
“You never did!”
“Yes, I do…what on earth are you saying, Marco?”
The man doesn’t say a word, instead, he holds a hand up to his face until the mask he has on falls off revealing somebody else.
“You love my brother?”
The violin flatlines, her gasps, dramatic acting efforts blare from the speaker while the screen of the TV replays the scene over and over again until I reach for the remote and power off the TV.
I sit there in the living room as I exhale from boredom. With a newfound peace, I bring my attention to the laptop beside me as I stare at the catalogue Dominic had recommended a week ago before the chaos. The same one I’d refused to go through, knowing he’d always made it obvious that I’m always wrong and he’s right.
Movement from the cor
