[We have much to discuss. - C.]
Leon had spent the entire night staring at it, the words replaying in his mind on a loop.
The conversation with his teammates had left him feeling hollowed out, a sad, empty space where the joy of their shared triumph used to be. And now, this.
A summons from the one man he was simultaneously most loyal to and most terrified of.
He woke up the next morning feeling like he hadn't slept at all. He walked into the kitchen to find his mother humming a cheerful tune, a stark, sunny contrast to the storm cloud in his own head.
"Buongiorno, my champion," she said, placing a plate of toast and jam in front of him. "You look like you wrestled a ghost last night and lost."
"It feels like it," Leon mumbled, staring into his coffee cup. "I told the team I'm leaving, Mom."
Elena sat down opposite him, her expression softening.
"And how did they take it?"
