MATTEOThe words hit like a thrown stone. “She is not my sister,” Vincent said, flat as concrete.My stomach dropped. Vincent circled the woman once, slow and easy, like a predator checking its prey. The room seemed to narrow the lights too bright, the air too thin. Maria knelt with her hands folded, head bowed so that the loose hair hid most of her face. Her fingers trembled.I stepped closer, eyes scanning every familiar line on her face. “What do you mean?” I demanded before I could stop myself. My voice came out brittle. “This isn’t my Isabella. Didn’t you recognize her? Or has she been in a coma so long you forgot what she looks like?”Vincent didn’t meet my eyes. He leaned in, as if savoring how the revelation landed. “Hello, Maria,” he said, casually, then waited.She looked up at him and said, “Master,” her voice small and practiced, then dropped back to the floor and kissed the hem of his coat. The motion the deference, the practiced fear made bile rise in my throat.Confus
Last Updated : 2025-09-20 Read more