Chapter 16 · Dad Had Another Face

The blood on my hand won't stop.

I've been back in my room for twenty minutes, pressing a towel against the cut, and it still seeps through. Locke wanted to call someone. A doctor. His guy. I said no. I don't need more people seeing me weak tonight.

The towel's soaked red now. I drop it on the floor and grab another one from the bathroom. My hand shakes when I wrap it. Not from pain. From what Vito said.

Your father drank from the same cup. Swore to protect Elena's son. Everyone died.

I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the door. Locke's on the other side. I heard him tell the guards to stay in the hall, that I needed space. He hasn't knocked. Hasn't tried to come in. That's worse somehow. Like he's waiting for me to break first.

I'm not going to break.

I stand up. Walk to the closet. There's a duffel bag shoved in the back corner, the one they packed when they pulled me out of the apartment. I dragged it in here the first night and haven't opened it since. I yank it out now. Unzip it.