The rain came without warning that night. It poured hard, turning the roads into rivers and the sky into a dull gray wall. Aria sat by the broken window, her body trembling. The pendant, cracked in half, lay on the table beside her like an open wound. Every drop of rain hitting the roof sounded like a heartbeat, slow, heavy, alive.
Lorenzo stood behind her, his arm bandaged from the last night's fight. He was silent, watching her carefully. He didn't know what to say anymore. Aria wasn't the same woman he knew. Her eyes looked lost, haunted, but there was also something burning inside them, something dangerous.
"You didn't sleep again," he said softly.
"I can't," she replied without looking at him. "Every time I close my eyes, I see him. His face, his voice, his hands."
Lorenzo stepped closer. "He's manipulating you. You know that, right?"
Aria gave a small, bitter smile. "Maybe. But I also know him. And Silas never did anything without a reason."
