Chapter 80

• || SANCIA'S POV ||
• The sun was dipping low, its orange glow illuminating the jagged peaks of the cliffs that surrounded the cove. The faint scent of saltwater mingled with the coppery tang of blood, an acrid reminder of what we had just survived. I sat cross-legged in the sand beside Vincenzo, the bandage I’d hastily tied around his leg already soaked through with crimson. His breath came in shallow gasps, and his face was pale, streaked with sweat and grime.
• “I told you not to take that risk,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You didn’t have to… I could’ve—”