Game over.
She exhales slowly, a sound that carries both exhaustion and quiet triumph, but her eyes remain cautious, scanning my face as if she knows that in my world, nothing is ever truly simple, nothing is ever truly over.
“There is something else,” I continue, my hands resting lightly on the edge of my desk, the weight of my gaze settling on her like a shield, “Marco Castello is in town. I don’t know every detail yet, but the word is out, he’s here, and he’s looking for us. He wants you, me, the children, everything we have. He hates me for what I did to his father, and he believes that everything you own belongs to his family. His father killed your grandfather.”