“Get me the first aid!” Matteo screamed, crouching down beside the dying Lisandro, who was now on the floor.Lisandro’s eyes widened—red and watery. His head tilted, his life slipping away, every cell in his body burning. He gasped for air, his hand flying to his chest. He grabbed a fistful of his shirt, each breath he drew in hopeless, like his lungs were shot—and they were.Everyone watched, circling the dying Lisandro, their faces surprised, stunned, some even scared. One wouldn’t blame them—they had eaten the same meal. Murmurs spread like wildfire. Victor was already dialing emergency services.Enrico raked his fingers through his hair as he and Alessio stared down. Lisandro’s life was slipping away, and their faces showed it.A waitress approached, first aid in hand. “Move… move,” she muttered as she shuffled through the crowd. “Here,” she said, hand outstretched.Matteo took the box from her and yanked it open. He scrambled through it, searching for God knows what. “Fuck,” he h
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