My bare feet hit the runner, cold against the wool.Through the crack in the door, Dante stayed on one knee beside the bed. His head was down against the mattress, his broad shoulders hunched forward like a collapsed wall. In his hands—scarred, blunt fingers that had signed away my family’s house four hours ago—he held a small, grey stuffed rabbit with one ear chewed down to the cotton stuffing.I didn't mean to make a sound. But my heel scraped the brass transition strip between the hallway and the threshold.A tiny, dry click.Dante didn't flinch. He didn't drop the toy. He set it on the eyelet pillow with slow, agonizing care, stood up, and turned toward the door.His face was completely blank. Not angry. Just hollow, like a statue someone had forgotten in an empty lot.I backed up two steps, my pulse kicking against my throat. "Dante—"He crossed the room in four strides, grabbed the edge of the steel door, and hauled it open. His other hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around m
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2026-10-14 อ่านเพิ่มเติม