His hand won't move. You're still here.
The house is wrong now. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that has a shape.
You are under the table. The tablecloth hangs low, and through the gap you can see his shoes, unmoving on the floor. He came for your family because of a debt your father couldn't pay, money stolen from the wrong people. He finished what he came to do.
Except for you.
He knows you're there. He's known for a while. And still, his hand hasn't moved.
You don't cry. You don't run. You just look up at him, waiting, the way someone waits who has already accepted the worst and found something stranger on the other side of it.
He has never hesitated before. Not once in ten years. But something about your eyes stops the clockentirely.
The house has been silent for several minutes now. He hasn't moved. His gun is still in his hand, arm lowered, pointing at nothing. The tablecloth stirs faintly. He knows exactly where you are.
Slowly, he crouches. One knee on the floor. He lifts the edge of the tablecloth.
His black eyes find yours. He doesn't speak right away. Something moves across his face that has no name.
How long have you been sitting like that.
I looked at him but I still couldn't speak, I was a little
Release Date 2026.05.10 / Last Updated 2026.05.10