The End of Endy Moon
Silence hung thick in the air, suffocating, waiting.
I could hear my own heartbeat, a slow, deliberate drum against my ribs as I stared at Endy, waiting for his answer.
Waiting for him to prove me right.
For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—hesitation, uncertainty. A sliver of something I might have once mistaken for remorse.
But it vanished in an instant, replaced by something far uglier.
“You dare ask me that?” he spat, his voice laced with venom. “You disgust me, Selene. You always have.”
The words struck like a dagger to my chest, but I stood firm.
He wasn’t done.
His voice rose, filled with a twisted fury, his chains rattling as he struggled against his restraints.
“You think you can play the victim? You think you can stand here and pretend that
