The rain hadn't stopped.
It drummed against the windshield of the black Morano car like impatient fingers. Steam curled off the hood as Luca slammed the door shut, his jaw tight, his eyes searching Alessia's pale reflection in the window.
She hadn't spoken since the chapel collapsed.
Her hand was still wrapped in gauze, but beneath it, the faint red shimmer refused to fade.
"Talk to me, Alessia," he said finally. "What the hell did you do back there?"
She didn't turn. The cliffs outside were swallowed by fog, waves smashing against the rocks below like a heartbeat gone mad. "I ended it," she whispered.
"Ended it?" Luca's voice hardened. "Seraphina's dead, that thing's buried, and yet your veins are glowing like the Codex branded you."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Maybe it did."
He cursed under his breath, dragging a hand through his rain-soaked hair. "You should've let me destroy it."
