Chapter 22 If I Could Fly

• The massive wrecking ball, its destruction of the monumental marble columns and the centuries-old walls of the Falcon family, amidst the dense cloud of dust covering the sky and the incessant cracking sounds, seemed to recreate the world. Watching that hellish, cursed house, which offered me a new form of torture every day, crumble to dust was like a balm for my soul.
• The sharp smell of gunpowder and earth filled my nostrils, while the accumulated anger of years within me dissipated with the dust. Xandros, the architect of this destruction, was right beside me; but this time, his eyes were not filled with the bloodthirsty terror of that savage hunter in the dungeon, but with the obsessive pride of witnessing my triumph amidst this wreckage.
• I had climbed onto a high rock standing atop the dust and rubble, right next to the house. The heavy skirt of my diamond-embroidered wedding dress billowed in the wind, and I had already thrown off my shoes; I was pressing my bare feet onto this cursed earth, onto the crumbling walls and spilled blood. The coolness of the earth hit my skin, an uncontrollable giggle escaping my lips, and within me, an indescribable euphoria of freedom.