[Alfio's POv]
"Alfio..." His voice cut through the silence like a sharp blade wrapped in velvet.
I turned around slowly, blinking at him. Salvo stood in the hallway, arms crossed, that usual unreadable expression carved onto his stone-cold face. I waited—because that's what I do now. Wait. For a command. For an order. For a punishment.
"Pack up your bag," he said.
My breath caught.
He paused, then added, "We're leaving now."
My stomach flipped.
"Pack…up?" The words rolled off my tongue like poison. Like something bitter I hadn't meant to say aloud.
Was he…abandoning me?
Throwing me out?
Had I been too much? Too broken? Too...me?
No...no...no, it cannot happen again. Not again. I just got used to breathing. I just started laughing again—even if it was into a pillow with tears on my cheeks.
My hands twitched. My knees buckled with phantom memories of being dragged, shoved, locked behind doors where the light didn't reach.
I should beg.
I should crawl.
