Kafka was baffled. Absolutely, soul-wrung baffled.
He looked around the room like a man who had just watched his entire understanding of reality dissolve in front of him.
He'd expected outrage, screaming, rejection, maybe a few broken vases thrown in moral panic.
But instead, everyone seemed...fine. More than fine, they were agreeing with it. Smiling about it.
But what made the situation even worse was that when Kafka turned toward Vanitas, she was smiling too. Beaming, in fact, radiant and glowing like sunlight after a storm.
Her hands were clasped at her chest, eyes glassy with pride and relief. She looked like someone who had finally been accepted after carrying years of guilt on her shoulders.
And right now she truly was happy.
