KANE'S POV

The TV was still on. I should’ve muted it, or maybe just smashed the damn thing. There they were Zane and Sibil, sitting like two devout saints on national television, spinning their sob story with so much performative grief, it almost deserved an award.

Zane’s voice grated through the speakers, calm and careful. Like a man deeply wounded by betrayal. And Sibil… God, her eyes watered on cue like she’d practiced in front of a mirror all night...who knows?maybe she had. ...