I turned the ring off.
My hands were cold.
That night, we went to a high-end Italian restaurant. One of those places where everything looked perfect. The food, the lighting, the view from the top floor overlooking the city.
It should’ve been romantic.
But I felt nothing.
Felix sat across from me, looking calm, composed… but I noticed it.
The way he kept checking his phone.
Waiting.
Of course he was.
Waiting for her message because she was his wife.
When his phone finally rang, he answered immediately, like he’d been holding his breath this whole time.
He moved too fast and pressed the wrong button.
Speaker.
Shannon’s voice came through, shaking, panicked.
“I… I’ve been taken! I don’t know where they’re bringing me… but it’s okay. Maybe this is better… if I disappear, Miss McKellar won’t be upset anymore… ah—! Help me!”
The line cut.
Felix’s face changed instantly.
He tried calling back. Again. Again.
Nothing.
Then he looked at me.
His voice forced calm, but I could hear the tension underneath. “Danica… where did you send her?”
I frowned. “What?”
“If you’re pissed, you tell me,” he said, his tone tightening. “I’ll handle it. You don’t need to get your hands dirty. Why the hell would you do something like this yourself?”
“I’ll say it again,” I said quietly, putting my fork down. “It wasn’t me.”
The next second, his hand clamped around my wrist.
Tight.
“Shannon’s not stable,” he snapped, his voice sharp now. “She can’t handle this kind of shit!”
My heart stuttered.
“Danica,” he continued, frustration breaking through, “can you just stop for a second? You lost a hand, yeah, I know, but she’s been through a lot too. Stop pushing her and just let her go, alright?”
I froze.
My eyes slowly burned. She’s been through a lot?
I almost laughed.
She attacked me with an axe. And someone protected her so she didn’t even spend a day in prison.
She married the man she wanted. She lived comfortably, hidden away, loved for four years.
And now… she was free.
So tell me…
Who was the victim?
And who had been fighting alone this whole time?
I forced my tears back and looked at him, my voice slow and steady. “I said I didn’t do it, and… even if this is a transplanted hand, it still hurts.”