She stepped closer, tears streaming freely now. "You were nineteen years old, and you'd already killed three people. You remember that? Three people you killed because they threatened the family business. And you didn't even hesitate. You came home, you washed the blood off your hands, and you sat down to dinner like nothing had happened."
Jorghan felt something cold settle in his stomach.
He did remember. Those deaths had been... necessary. Clean. Professional. He'd felt nothing at the time except satisfaction at a job completed.
"They were threats," he said, but his voice lacked conviction.
"They were human beings," Grace shot back.
"With families, with lives, with futures you erased because your father taught you that some people don't matter. That's what he did to me, son. He taught you that people are tools or obstacles, nothing in between. And I watched you absorb that lesson like it was gospel."
"But I was never cruel," Jorghan protested.
