It’s interesting how fear can sometimes become something tangible, as it does in this moment. Horror seems to tame the man’s soul in a mixture of pain and unmatched guilt. I wouldn’t need his family if he hadn’t stepped into our path.
But it isn’t only that monster taming his soul that I see. It’s the recognition that he knew this could happen.
That is why guilt seems carved into his spirit.
“Please! My boy! It was just a damn shipment!” he begs.
“If he’s just a child, that detail matters only to you. To me, traitors all wear the same face. And let’s be honest, I don’t give a f**k about the merchandise. I want to know what’s behind this distraction. You know you are not one of us. Working for a traitor does not make you one of us, Martino. And even if it did, that wouldn’t save you, be
