The Weight of What Remains

The footage froze on Matteo’s face.

A school hallway. Lockers painted a tired blue. Children moving past him, laughing, unaware that one boy among them had just become a target again.

Vera couldn’t breathe.

Her fingers dug into the edge of the table, nails biting into wood as if grounding herself might stop the world from tilting.

“No,” she whispered.

Nicolas was already on his feet, fury radiating off him like heat from a fire. “Shut it down,” he ...