Cruel Heart
I return his greeting and turn to the hallway, noticing Kaanadan — yes, Kaanadan — in one of the back seats, writing something down while he had a book in his free hand.
I freeze for a few seconds. I thought that like his godfather, Kaanadan had already gone to Sicily, especially because last night he barely said a word and he didn't even look at my face. I don't think that will change quickly, but... it surprises me that he waited for me.
The book I was reading had no title on the red cover, but it seemed to be old due to the texture of the hard cover and the details that are very reminiscent of the decorative books that are on the shelves of mafia offices — often used as a pass to a hidden
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