"Why?" I ask, the word dropping like lead in the silence.
Amara is in pain and confused, blinking through her tears. She sobs while saying, "Why what?"
I glare at her, my patience non-existent.
Amara stammers, desperate to deflect. "It was Carmine! Carmine asked me to drug—"
I move faster than she can track. I pulled out my handgun and slam the cold steel against her head. I pressed the muzzle at her temples, hard enough to bruise.
Amara closed her eyes crying, trembling violently.
"That's not what I asked," I hiss, leaning into her face. "I asked why you covered it up. Why you pushed Angelica forward."
Amara cries, her eyes squeezed shut as if that will make the gun disappear. "Angelica is easy to control!" she wails, the truth spilling out in a rush of cowardice. "But Tyr, Tyr... she hates me."
