But I can’t.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper before straddling him and stabbing him in the chest and throat. I stab him over and over again, and end up covered in his blood.
The blade is slippery, and I cut my own hand during stab twenty-two.
I hit bones, arteries, and organs.
He coughs up blood, his eyes pleading I show mercy. I can’t stand the look he gives me, so I stab him in the eyeballs. The only mercy I can show him is when I grip him by the hair and run my blade across his throat.
Blood oozes from the incision, bleeding out Lewis’s life, and with one final breath, he perishes by my hand.
He collapses onto the hard floor with a heavy thud.
My hands tremble as I come to a slow stand.
What a mess I have made. What a mess indeed.
Usually, this kind of scene would leave me wired for days. But now, I want to be sick looking at my handiwork. I took an innocent man’s life. Regardless of his weakness, he didn’t deserve this fate. I killed Lettie’s uncle.
I killed family.
I have done some awful things in my life, but this is unforgivable.
“I had my doubts, Valentina. But you’ve proved me wrong. There’s one last thing I need you to do.”
Of course there is because nothing is ever enough for Gianna.
“Bring me Bria and do to her what you just did to Lewis, and only then will I believe you. You forget, I raised you,piccola. You are shrewd and cunning because I taught you well. Sweet dreams.”
She leaves me alone with the mess I made, knowing this is just the start of things to come.
I barely sleep.
Being in my old “room” doesn’t bring back happy memories. It just fortifies my hatred for Gianna.
Lewis’s blood is still under my fingernails, no matter how hard I scrubbed.
How am I going to tell Lenny what I did?
I shower and dress in an outfit that Gianna left out for me, which reminds me that I left my things at Lenny’s.
I don’t know what comes next.
I’ve done as Lenny said. But the jury is still out on whether Gianna believes me.
Once dressed, I hear the joyous laughter of children from the dining hall. I decide to go check it out. When I enter, the smell of greasy breakfast turns my stomach.
Sisters peer up at me, but don’t say anything as they tend to the children.
Kids of all ages sit at the tables, poking their food and laughing with friends. Not much eating is occurring, not that I can blame them. I wouldn’t feed this slop to a dog.
I look at the table I was sitting at when I drove my spoon into Hugo’s eyeball. It was a proud moment for me. I finally stood up to the bully. And Lenny took the blame for it.
He’s been my savior since the very beginning.
I notice a young girl with messy blonde pigtails sitting at a table at the back of the room. She clutches a rag doll close to her chest, her wide eyes taking everything in. She looks about eight years old.
My heart bleeds for her because with her tattered clothes and eyes too big for her emaciated face, I can’t help but see me in her.