Lilas Light.
I am on the hospital bed, resting at my side. My profile is softly illuminated by the gentle glow of ambient light of the room. I am still lost in everything Donatello told me, my eyes gazing into the distance as if searching the depths of my thoughts. My lips, slightly parted, hints at the unspoken complexity of my musings. The play of shadows accentuates the lines of concentration on my face.
It cannot be true. Donatello could be lying but I know Salvatore, he would never do anything like that. Salvatore has spoiled me with expensive material things, and what Donatello described to me is a money hungry fellow. It contrasts from what I’ve witnessed and I have to combat it. I can’t just believe what anyone tells me.
A month before my father passed, I noticed that he was o
