MARCO’S POV

After my meeting with Melissa at the café, I walked out with my head low, like a man carrying a weight far heavier than he could bear. I was ashamed of myself—ashamed in a way I had never been before. Melissa had sat across from me, her eyes swollen from crying, her voice trembling but still clinging to hope that somehow, I could help her make sense of the chaos. She looked at me like a friend, like a senior brother she could rely on.

And what did she get in return?

...