While the physician carefully checked my wounds, a heavy silence fell over the room. Every breath I took seemed drowned out by the collective scrutiny of those gathered around me.
I could almost hear the muted thumps of anxious hearts beating in unison with my own. The sterile tang of antiseptic mingled with the underlying coppery note of fresh blood, as if warning me that death lurked behind each measured word.
In that hushed moment, my mind was drawn to a burning suspicion: both Lyle and Gioffre knew something about Laura—a secret too dangerous to be spoken openly.
I was notentirely sure if Lyle had told the truth, for his words were carefully measured; yet, a darker, more dangerous impression emanated from Gioffre. I could not shake the thought that he might be the one harboring a murderous intent, a secret poison hidden inside more than just a dagger.
