Sylvia pressed her hands to his chest, trying to push Deculein away from her shoulder, but Deculein didn’t move an inch; his frame was solid as stone, and she struggled against him with all her strength.0

“Let go. Let go of me. Let go,” Sylvia said, not because she wanted to—but because she had to.0

With a slight nod, Deculein let her go, and Sylvia looked up at him, resentment flickering in her eyes like a fading ember.0

"If there's no paradise made only of happiness, then there shouldn't be a hell made only of pain either," Sylvia added, her teeth clenched. "Because that's where I am—hell."0

The knife rested in her hand, and she raised it slightly, shaking it as if to threaten him—enough to draw a line between them.0

"I hate you—for killing my mom. And I hate you even more for telling me to live on with that hatred, as if it should be my anchor. I don’t even know what you're hoping to get from me anymore."0

Deculein said nothing but cast the Cleanse spell, wiping away the grease and scraps of meat from her knife as if they offended him.0

“Are you kidding me?!” Sylvia yelled before she even knew it, the words leaving her lips like a flame, the storm of frustration that had been building inside her finally cracking open.0

“Sylvia,” Deculein called.0

It wasn’t just that Deculein said her name again, but the unshaken calm in his voice that made Sylvia’s blood stir with restrained anger.0

“I’m not asking anything of you.”0

“Then why—”0

“You...0