Chapter Forty-Eight
Malachi's POV
I was seated in the garden when Travis walked in. The moment I saw him approaching, something inside me went cold and hard. He sat beside me on the stone bench without asking, already making my blood boil just by being there.
"Mother had nightmares every night after you left," he said, his voice flat. "Every single night. She'd wake up screaming, clawing at the sheets."
I kept my eyes on the rose bushes ahead of me, saying nothing.
"She always saw blood on your hands and all over your body," Travis continued. "Blood that wouldn't wash off, no matter how hard she tried to clean it away."
I didn't move. Didn't flinch. Didn't give him the satisfaction of any reaction at all.
