Blood, Silence, and Resolve
"No," she said. "But it ends it."
The words didn't need to be loud. They struck anyway—quiet as pebbles dropped into still water, yet heavy enough to ripple through the silence and pull everything under. The night seemed to recoil, holding its breath around them.
Leon stopped mid-step.
Moonlight slid across her face, catching on the curve of her cheek, the steadiness of her eyes. There was no tremor in her voice. No pleading edge. No crack where fear might leak through. She wasn't asking to be saved. She wasn't even asking to be understood.
She had already crossed that line.
For a single heartbeat, Leon forgot how to breathe.
