LORENZO VINCENT
THREE DAYS LATER
A dull throb pounded against my forehead as my eyes fluttered open. At first, everything was a haze, blurred edges, soft lights, and then it all came crashing back.
The explosion.
Giulia’s scream.
The unbearable cold of that night.
It sank into my chest like a weight too heavy to lift.
I tried to sit up, but the ache across my body protested. Mirko was instantly at my side, his arm gently supporting me.
"Easy, Ren," he said, his voice low and cautious.
"I can manage," I murmured, brushing him off as gently as I could.
Just then, the door creaked open and in walked my father with the doctor. His face wore a familiar mask of disapproval. Of course, disappointment was his signature emotion. One would think a father might show fear, grief... anything
