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Nirah

The car ride back to the house was silent.

Kiryl was behind the wheel with Koren in the passenger seat.

Antonio and I were in the back and for the entire drive he had his head thrown back against the headrest with his eyes closed.

I couldn’t think. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t— it was her. He was looking… at her. Was he looking at her?

My throat tightened at the thought of what she’d said about them sleeping together being true. Maybe Kiryl hadn’t seen them. Maybe he had been given orders to fulfill and wasn’t able to see him. Maybe…

I looked up and caught Kiryl’s soft eyes in the rear view mirror. They held so many words… so much comfort. His eyebrows scrunched together as though seeing me like this pained him, as though he wanted to…

I blinked away the tears, folding my arms over my chest as I broke eye contact and stared out the window. The sky was dark. The air light.

When we pulled up to the house Antonio climbed out first and I quietly sniffled, brushing a tear that had escaped away. Don’t fucking cry, Nirah. Don’t be stupid.

Koren opened the door for me but before I could climb out, Kiryl was already there, extending his hand.

I smiled as he helped me out. Koren closed the door behind me and as Kiryl was about to walk me to the front door I stopped him.

“It’s okay.” I nodded, then looked up to see Antonio enter the house.

Kiryl followed my gaze and for a brief moment his eyes hardened before landing back on me.

“It’s late. Get some rest.” I gave his hand a light squeeze and his demeanor made me believe that he had so much to say. I offered my most convincing smile. “Thank you.”

With my hand on his shoulder for balance, I leaned up and kissed his cheek. Fighting the overwhelming weight of sadness I turned, making my way up the stairs.

I inhaled deeply as I entered the house and headed for the kitchen to grab some water but Antonio beat me to it.

I swallowed hard. “Why did you kill him?” I asked as he threw his head back, downing half of the water.

He turned to face me, screwing the cap back on before shrugging. “Because I didn’t like him.”

I scoffed, arms folded as I slowly stepped closer. “Why didn’t you like him?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“Yes. Now answer my question.” I stopped in front of him.

He eyed me for a minute. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you know something you want me to admit.”

“Guilty conscience, maybe?” I suggested and silence settled between us.

“I didn’t like him. That’s it.” He stepped past me.

“Because he was Fernandina’s husband?”

He stopped walking.

“Is that why you didn’t like him?” I asked again.

Slowly, he turned and I looked at him out of the corner of my eye.