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Daniel
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2026-10-05 12:45:56The drive back from the cemetery was silent.
Cassandra sat in the passenger seat, the photographs and the letter clutched in her hands. Her mother's handwriting. Her mother's words. Ask him about the night I died. Ask him what he really saw.
She stared out the window, the countryside blurring past. The sky was gray and heavy, threatening rain. The world outside felt distant, unreal. Like she was watching it through a fog.
Dante reached for her hand. His grip was warm, steady. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. He just held on.
---
They arrived at the new house just as the rain began to fall.
Clara met them at the door, her face kind and concerned. "Miss Cassandra. Mr. Moretti. Can I get you anything?"
"No," Cassandra said quietly. "Thank you, Clara."
She walked past her, straight to the study. Dante followed, closing the door behind them.
Cassandra sank into the chair by the window. She stared at the photographs—her mother, young and smiling. Her father, tall and dark-haired, with kind eyes. They looked happy. They looked in love.
She called Daniel.
Her voice was steady, but her hands were trembling. "I need to see you. There's something you haven't told me."
Silence on the other end. Then: "I was wondering when you'd ask."
They arranged to meet the next morning.
---
That night, Cassandra couldn't sleep.
She sat by the window in the bedroom, staring at the rain. It streaked down the glass, blurring the world outside. She felt hollow. Empty. Like someone had reached inside her chest and scooped out everything that mattered.
Dante appeared behind her. He didn't speak. He just wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her back against his chest.
"You should sleep," he murmured against her hair.
"I can't."
He was quiet for a moment. Then he turned her to face him. His eyes searched hers, dark and warm.
"Then let me help you relax," he said softly.
He led her to the bed.
He laid her down gently, his body settling beside hers. He didn't rush. He didn't demand. He just held her.
His fingers traced slow, soothing patterns on her back. Circles. Lines. Gentle strokes that melted the tension from her muscles. She closed her eyes, letting herself feel.
He kissed her forehead. Her nose. Her cheeks. Each kiss was soft. Reverent. Like she was something precious.
"Talk to me," he whispered.
She shook her head. "I don't know what to say."
"Then don't say anything." He pulled her closer. "Just breathe."
He held her for a long time.
His hand moved through her hair, slow and steady. His other hand rested on her back, warm and grounding. He didn't ask questions. He didn't offer solutions. He just stayed.
She felt the tension slowly leaving her body. The tightness in her chest eased. Her breathing slowed.
"I'm scared," she whispered.
"I know."
"What if he tells me something I can't handle?"
"Then I'll be here. I'll always be here."
She looked up at him. His eyes were soft. Tender. Full of love.
She reached up, her fingers brushing his jaw. "I love you."
"I love you too."
She kissed him. Soft. Slow. A promise in the darkness.
They lay together, tangled in each other.
Dante's arms were wrapped around her, his chest warm against her back. She could feel his heartbeat—steady, strong, grounding.
"I don't know what I'd do without you," she whispered.
"You'll never have to find out."
She closed her eyes, letting herself rest. The world was still dangerous. The truth was still painful. But in this moment, she felt something she hadn't felt in months.
Peace.
---
The next morning, they drove to meet Daniel.
He was waiting at a small café on the outskirts of the city. He looked older than he had the last time she saw him. Tired. Broken.
"You found the letter," he said.
Cassandra nodded. She sat across from him, Dante beside her.
"What did you see?" she asked. "The night she died. What did you really see?"
Daniel was silent for a long moment. Then he spoke.
"I was there," he said quietly. "I saw everything. Vincent. Evelyn. The moment Grace was killed."
Cassandra's blood ran cold. "You were there?"
"I was supposed to meet her. She was going to give me the evidence. We were going to run away together." His voice cracked. "But I was late. I got there just in time to see Vincent pull the trigger."
Cassandra stared at him. "You saw her die?"
"I saw everything." Tears streamed down his face. "And I ran. I was a coward. I ran, and I left her there."
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