Fool Me Once
But here… in Amalfi, it was quiet.
Cassie was still asleep, wrapped in linen sheets, her silhouette calm beneath the open shutters. The breeze toyed with a strand of her hair, and for a second, I just watched her - breathing, whole, safe.
We’d made it through the fire. And now we were standing in the afterglow.
But not without a cost.
Yesterday’s card still sat on the terrace table. ONE FINAL STORY. CHOOSE YOUR ENDING WISELY.
The seal had been broken. The choice had been made. And still, a final ember lingered in the form of that tabloid headline:
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