Chapter 89: A Debt of Blood

The silence in Rodrigo’s apartment was a physical weight. It was heavier than the exhaustion that settled deep in his bones, more oppressive than the lingering scent of stale coffee and sleepless nights. Joey Duffus was in a cell, the verdict a cold, hard fact recorded in the annals of the court. Justice, they called it. But it didn't feel like justice. It felt like an epilogue to a tragedy that had already claimed its victims. There was no champagne, no celebratory calls. There was only this...