— I heard time dulls pain, but it never did for me. For years, I carried it like a wound I refused to look at. Perhaps if I hadn't touched it, there would've been no infection. Maybe I thought that if I stayed silent, he'd still be alive somewhere—in the deepest part of my being. But the truth tastes bitter and carries a cruel sound—it tears through you, leaves you hollow, and reminds you that love makes cowards of us all. Too afraid to admit what died right before our eyes. —
Hearing the sound of a knock on the door, Henry sat on the mattress, body stiff.
Loti looked his way.
"It can't be the High Priest, right?" Henry nervously asked.
The woman shrugged.
"Could be. That man can never be trusted, after all," she whispered, voice low.
For a brief moment, they remained quiet.
Just then, another knock followed.
"I will—"
