Blood on my hands. Broken pieces around me. I gathered what I could of my son with fingers that wouldn’t stop shaking, even though there was nothing whole left to hold.
Time passed after that—but I couldn’t tell how much. The world stopped feeling like it moved at all.
I never slept.
I just sat outside my room with my knees pulled tight against my chest. Dried blood stained my palms. Salt clung to my lips from crying I didn’t even remember doing.
Then, sometime after midnight—
A cough broke the silence.
Vincenzo’s voice followed immediately, sharp and panicked.
“Lena—look at me. What is it? Tell me where it hurts.”
I didn’t move.
Her voice suddenly rose, filling the hallways like a storm trying to break through the walls.
“I can’t breathe!” she gasped. “Vincenzo—my chest… my stomach… she cursed me! That urn… ever since she brought it into this house, something’s been wrong!”
Footsteps thundered. Vincenzo paced. Cursed under his breath.
“That woman…”
Lena’s voice dropped again, trembling now, soft like she was on the edge of collapse.
“I heard the maids… they said she brought poison. Something meant for me. Maybe she hid it in the urn… maybe she wanted me gone.” She gasped shakily. “I’m scared, Vincenzo… I’m pregnant… I don’t want to die…”
The door burst open.
Vincenzo stormed in.
His rage hit the room before his body did—thick, suffocating, sharp enough to make my skin crawl.
He grabbed my wrist and yanked me up so fast my feet barely had time to move.
“You did this.”
Pain shot through my arm. My ankle twisted under me. His grip was unrelenting.
“You poisoned this house,” he growled. “You cursed her. You knew she was carrying my child and you still brought death into my home.”
“I didn’t—”
He pulled me forward violently, cutting my words off mid-breath.
“She almost died tonight!” he shouted. “Is that what you wanted? Huh? You wanted her gone?”
He dragged me into their room and shoved me hard.
“KNEEL.”
I stayed standing.
“I said kneel.”
“No.”
The slap came fast.
My head snapped to the side. White flashed behind my eyes.
“On your knees.”
I still didn’t move.
So he kicked the back of my legs.
Pain exploded upward. My knees hit the floor hard. Skin tore. Warm blood spread beneath me.
Lena sat on the couch like she was watching a stage performance. Perfect posture. Controlled breathing. One hand resting on her stomach like she was protecting something precious.
But her eyes—
Her eyes were sharp.