“So, you’ve had enough of your suicide drama, and now you’re starting to ruin other people’s lives?” Max's voice was sharp with anger. “Vania is still just young, yet you post her private photos online. How’s she supposed to live with that?”
“I already told you,” he continued, his tone dropping to a cold, low rumble, “even the best bomb expert couldn’t have guaranteed our daughter’s safety with five bombs on her.”
I gave a short, bitter laugh. “Funny. You said you were on an urgent mission. But you had time to check my social media and call me?”
He hesitated for a split second before his voice hardened even more. “Shannon, are you losing your mind? My missions are assigned by my superiors. Stop dragging innocent people into your madness. Our daughter’s death was an accident.”
Before I could respond, someone grabbed his phone. Then Vania’s voice came through, crying like her world had just ended.
“Shannon, that message, I only sent it because I was upset about my work mistake. Sir Max took me out for drinks to cheer me up, but I got drunk and sent it to you by accident. It was meant for my best friend.”