Analina’s P.O.V. Today, the candles burned brighter, as though determined to push back the darkness that had settled over us. The family gathered early, moving through the house like ghosts. Stavros, Rocco’s father, looked every bit the broken man—a pillar of strength now marred by loss. His hands shook as he straightened his tie, and his eyes were hollow, red-rimmed from sleepless nights and ceaseless tears. Jonathan, my brother and Rocco’s best friend, was a shadow of himself, his bravado stripped away and replaced by a quiet grief that seemed to weigh down every step. Today, the candles burned brighter, as though determined to push back the darkness that had settled over us. The family gathered early, moving through the house like ghosts. Stavros, Rocco’s father, looked every bit the broken man—a pillar of strength now marred by loss. His hands shook as he straightened his tie, and his eyes were hollow, red-rimmed from sleepless nights and ceaseless tears. Jonatha
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