Chapter Forty-Three
Sabrina
Silence settled over the room as my final words faded into the space between us.
Shock etched itself across Matteo's face, while Mum covered her mouth as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.
Dad simply stared at me, unable to tear his eyes away, and around the room I saw the same expression reflected over and over again – heartbreak, grief and disbelief settling heavily over the people I'd spent my whole life searching for.
It was Carlo who finally broke the silence.
“Hang on...”
His brow furrowed as he replayed everything I'd just told them, searching for the piece that refused to fit.
“I understand everything else,” he said slowly, looking directly at me, “but if Morana killed Diabola... why?”
The question tightened something in my chest. Of all the questions he could have asked, it had to be that one.
I'd always known my family would learn the truth about Morana eventually, but not like this. I'd spent weeks putting a plan into motion, and if everything went the way I intended, they'd know exactly who Morana was soon enough. Today wasn't supposed to be that day.
I forced myself to hold Carlo's gaze.
“A few years after I escaped Russia, I crossed paths with Morana.”
The lie slipped from my lips with an ease that made me hate myself.
“We fought. It wasn't much of a fight, if I'm honest. She had me beaten before I'd even realised what was happening.”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
“She almost killed me.”
Matteo frowned.
“So what changed?”
I lowered my eyes briefly before looking back at him.
“I don't know.” I hesitated. “She hesitated.”
“Instead of killing me, we talked. She already knew who Ivan was, and after I told her everything he'd done, she offered to help me disappear. She spread word through the underground that she'd killed Diabola herself and made sure every Russian who mattered believed it.”
Dad leaned forward slightly, his expression thoughtful.
“So she took the blame for you.”
I nodded.
“It was the only way to make Ivan lower his guard. As long as he believed Diabola was dead, he stopped looking for me. He thought the weapon he'd created was gone.”
Silence settled over the room once again.
Carlo slowly rubbed the back of his neck, his confusion finally easing.
“So...” he said quietly, “Morana saved your life.”
I swallowed around the guilt rising in my throat.
“Yeah.”
She did.
No one questioned it any further, and relief washed over me so quickly it almost made me dizzy. I hated lying to them, especially now that I'd finally found them again, but the truth would have to wait a little longer. Everything depended on it.
My gaze drifted around the room until it settled on Leonardo.
Unlike everyone else, he hadn't spoken once. He sat perfectly still, his head bowed as silent tears fell onto his clasped hands. His shoulders rose and fell unevenly as he fought to keep himself together.
The look on his face was one I knew all too well. It was guilt – the kind that convinced you there had been another way, another choice, another chance to save the people you loved.
A painful knot tightened in my chest.
“Leo,” I said softly.
He flinched at the sound of his name before slowly lifting his head. His face was streaked with tears, his eyes bloodshot and swollen, but somehow they still held the same warmth I'd seen in them the day we'd met again.
When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.
“I'm sorry.”
I frowned.
“For what?”
A broken laugh escaped him as he dragged a trembling hand across his face, only managing to smear the tears.
“For leaving you there.”
The room fell silent.
“I escaped.” His voice cracked. “I got out of Russia... and I left you behind.”
Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks.
“I didn't know who you were,” he whispered desperately. “I swear to God, Sabrina, I didn't know.”
He shook his head.
“If I'd known...” His voice broke completely. “If I'd known you were my sister, I would've carried you out of there myself.”
He squeezed his eyes shut.
“I would've died before I left you.”
Before he could say anything else, I was already moving.
I crossed the room and knelt in front of him, gently taking his trembling hands in mine. They were ice cold.
“Leo,” I whispered. “Look at me.”
For a moment, his eyes found mine before dropping away again.
“I can't.”
“You can.”
His jaw tightened.
“I left you there.”
“No,” I said softly. “You escaped.”
“It's the same thing.”
“It isn't.”
He looked at me again, tears spilling freely now.
“I got out, Sabrina. You didn't. I should've gone back.”
“How?” I asked gently.
His brow furrowed.
“You were a little boy. You'd escaped a place no child should ever have been. You had no idea who I was.”
His breathing caught.
“You didn't leave your sister behind, Leo. Ivan stole that chance from both of us.”
I squeezed his hands.
“He stole our names before we ever had the chance to know each other. Every time we looked at each other, we saw another child trying to survive.”
“None of that was your fault.”
A sob escaped him.
“The only person responsible for what happened to us was Ivan. He's the one who stole our childhoods. He's the one who stole every chance we ever had to be brother and sister.”
“I should've protected you.”
“You couldn't.”
“I was your big brother.”
“And you were just a little boy.”
The words seemed to shatter whatever fragile composure he still had left. A broken sob tore from his chest as he dropped his head, his shoulders shaking beneath the weight of years spent blaming himself for something that had never been his fault.
Watching him break hurt more than reliving any of it ever had.
I didn't think. I simply closed the small distance between us and wrapped my arms around him as tightly as I could.
“It's okay,” I whispered, my own tears falling freely now. “I've got you.”
For a heartbeat, he remained frozen.
Then his arms wrapped around me with a desperate grip, holding me so tightly it was as though he were terrified that if he let go, I'd disappear all over again.
I buried my face against his shoulder.
“I've got you,” I whispered again. “I'm here.”
Neither of us spoke after that.
We simply held onto each other, mourning everything we'd lost before we'd ever had the chance to be brother and sister.
For the first time since I'd found my family, it wasn't words that brought us together. It was the understanding that, despite everything Ivan had taken from us, he'd failed to destroy what mattered most.
We had found our way back to each other.