His Betrayal, Her Shattered Symphony

Farl

looked at Mrs. Gable. Her face was pale, her hands still trembling, her eyes darting between me and the angry m

new I wouldn't let an innocent person suffer because of his charade. He

ce hoarse. I hated the sound of it now, so weak, so broken

't. They're crazy out there. Le

s precisely why I had to go out. I couldn't let them h

of cameras, into the howling storm of accusations. The air thick

omeone shrieked.

ce jeered, cruel and close. "Th

e the visible proof of my past. The scar, a const

screamed, spitting her words like venom.

ead reeled. It was the same script, the

ugh the noise. "And what about your poor grandpa? Di

aled, the one guilt I carried like a lead cloak. My vision blurred. The faces in the crowd morphed into gro

chaos. His expression was unreadable, a mask of practiced concern that didn't

push through the crowd to reach me.

her. She stumbled, nearly falling backward onto

efore she hit the ground. His presence was enough. The crowd, momentarily stunned by his intervention, quieted. He held Mrs. Gable ge

the very beast he unleashed. The irony was a bitter taste in my mouth. He gla

ries. "Are you okay?" I whispered, my voice bare

creating a small bubble of space around us. Then he turned his full attention

st my ribs. "Julian," I said, the name feeling foreign, like

ie," he repeated, a hint of accusation in his tone. "