I widen my eyes with the same frightened expression as Graziela, using her as my model, because I feel like laughing. They’re looking for me and will never suspect the obvious. How could I have killed two of Dante’s soldiers and walked away unharmed?
“Are we not safe?” I ask falsely.
“Better stay here, dear,” Fiamma declares, and I’m sure if it were her safety, she’d slit the throat of anyone who dared approach.
“I won’t leave Graziela alone.” I hold myself back from sounding too firm, but what they’re asking is ridiculous. Is my life more valuable than someone else’s?
“No. You stay. We don’t know who or why this happened. So we can’t guarantee your safety.”
The verdict they were waiting for is finally given, and Lorenzo delivers it while looking me straight in the eyes, leaving no ro
