CHAPTER 2 — “What She Remembers”
The man turns sharply toward the woman in white.
“Call an ambulance. Now.”
She doesn’t respond immediately.
Instead, she looks down at the scissors in her hand, then slowly lowers them to her side, almost as if deciding something.
“I already called,” she says at last.
A pause.
Then she adds softly:
“She refused help earlier.”
The man’s expression tightens.
“Refused? My mother is bleeding.”
The younger woman finally looks up at him. Her eyes are steady—too steady.
“She said she deserved it.”
The courtyard goes silent again, even the fountain feels distant.
The man freezes.
His mother’s hand grips his sleeve weakly, pulling him closer, as if trying to stop the conversation entirely.
Her voice finally breaks through in a whisper:
May you like
“No… don’t… believe her…”
But she says it too late.
