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CHAPTER 4 – THE KEY AND THE ECHO OF SILENCE.

The key looked harmless. Small, silver, with the number 12 hand-etched on top. But to me, it felt as heavy as if it were made of lead. Alessio had handed it to me with that mix of warning and provocation he’d perfected—like a poisoned gift. And, knowing him, it probably was.

I didn’t tell Marco. No...