Silas was the kind of man who never flinched.
He stayed stone-faced through everything through the beating, through the threats, through the humiliation. Even when he bit off his own tongue, it didn't look like panic. It looked like a decision made with cold precision.
No matter how far we pushed him, he never begged. He never pleaded. He never showed fear.
And still… I couldn't stop the resentment burning in my chest.
He might have been following someone else's orders, but he was the one who ruined my life. Who knew how many lives were sitting on his conscience?
Now he was gone, just like that, and it felt too easy.
I gripped the fabric of my clothes until my fingers ached, frustration tightening my throat. We had watched every angle. Even when Sheila and Camilla got close to him, we kept eyes on them. His meals were handled by people we trusted. His room was controlled.
So how did he still end up dead?
Camilla couldn't accept it either.
