Letting the bridge burn

_Amelie’s POV_

The room remained still after Luca made his way out.

It was too still, too quiet, and too heavy with the kind of silence that let my thoughts run circles until they made me dizzy. The brothers had gone their separate ways hours ago, each nursing their anger like an open wound. The walls here didn’t just keep secrets—they soaked them in, and I could feel them pressing on my chest.

I hated what this felt like. It was completely different from this past few days and I couldn’t blame anyone for it.

I sat on the edge of the bed, the blanket rumpled beneath me, my hands resting in my lap like they didn’t belong to me.

For days, I’d avoided looking at them—kept them wrapped, hidden under gauze and the excuse of healing. It was easier that way. Easier not to remember.

But the bandages had to come off sometime.

My fingertips brushed the edge of the tape, and a strange chill went through me. My stomach clenched.

I should wait until morning. I should do this with someone else h