Maximo checked his watch. It was almost ten. He looked around at the abandoned room he was in and sighed. He only had an hour and thirty minutes before he was riding over to the mouth of the cave to collect her and drive her out of town.
God, he didn't know what he was doing, but he couldn't just shake the feeling that she was innocent. No, it wasn't feeling. There were facts, and her servant suddenly fleeing the country cemented his belief.
Don was acting on his feelings, which was expected since he and the last Capo Bastone were more like brothers than friends; in fact, Don considering him as a replacement was all because he was close to Matteo.
And then he had sworn to be as loyal as the last assistant, even swearing on his life that he wasn't going to allow Don to stain his hands with her blood until there was full proof that she was guilty.
But the more he snooped around, the more he doubted she was guilty.
Maximo rubbed his eyes, the torchlight in his hands helping him through
