"Honey, why are you taking so long? You said you wouldn't be gone that long," Elena said, flashing me one of her fake smiles.
"Sis, how are you?" she asked, pulling me into a brief hug. "I know it's not easy to lose Dante."
Then she pulled back and looped her arm around him.
She gave me that fake, syrupy look of concern. I smiled back, cold as ice. "I'm fine. Why should I grieve? People leave. Nothing to cry about," I said flatly, catching the way Dante's jaw clenched. His eyes burned holes into me, like he didn't expect that answer.
Elena's gaze dropped to the boxes. "You're burning them?"
"Yeah. Why should I keep anything?" I shrugged.
"Aww, that's sad," she pouted, then turned to Dante. "Honey, we need to go. I have a follow-up at the hospital."
Dante didn't move. He stared at the box. "Don't burn that. I'll keep it. For my brother," he said.
I was about to argue, but he didn't give me the chance. He nodded once to one of the soldiers by the gate. The man stepped forward without a word and carried the box to a waiting car. My jaw clenched. What the hell was he doing? Why not just let me go? Why keep torturing me like this?