Cassel — POV
Rosalia only smiled faintly.
And something in that small, strained smile made my stomach tighten. There was something off about it. She wasn't really smiling; she was masking something—her thoughts, her fear, or maybe her distrust.
Probably because of Barney.
The look she gave him earlier wasn't good.
Her tone, her subtle tension—it all screamed unease.
Even Henry, the one she clashed with at every opportunity, she treated as an ally. But Barney… no. Her eyes told me she didn't trust him. And she was right not to.
Could it be that she knows he isn't as good as he pretends to be?
Rosalia… ah, Rosalia.
How much do you really know?
We circled the crumbling building until we reached the back gate. It was smaller, rusted, and the paint was peeling in flakes of dull gray. The main gate had been massive, barricaded with steel and corpses, but this one—by some miracle—was open.
A quiet blessing in a world that had long forgotten mercy.
