(Alessandro’s POV) I sat there, my arm a band of steel around her, holding her against my side as the silence of the library grew heavy, the air thick with the ghosts of the past. The oilskin package sat on the table between us, a dark, heavy thing that held all the answers, and all the poison, that had defined our lives. Isabella was trembling, her body pressed against mine, and I could feel the cold dread rolling off of her, a mirror of the cold, hard knot in my own stomach. Together. My hand, steady and sure, reached out and broke the old, brittle wax seal, the small cracking sound echoing in the quiet room. I unwrapped the oilskin, revealing a thick, black, leather-bound book, its cover worn and its pages yellowed with age, but it was perfectly preserved. It was not just a book, it was a tomb, a record of sins I was not sure I was ready to read. Tucked just inside the cover, I saw a folded, yellowed piece of paper, and on the front, written in a strong, elegant script, w
Magbasa pa
Mag-log in
