The smell of cigarettes snaked through the dimly lit bar in Valletta. Kasa hunched over his whiskey, his shirt collar askew, fingers absently tracing the fresh wound across his neck. Max had pulled down the shutters early, as usual. Tonight, the bar wasn't just a hideout - it was his sanctuary.
"Here's another," Max said, sliding a fresh tumbler across the counter.
The eight o'clock news droned in the background until someone shouted, "Hey, turn that up!"
Through his alcohol-induced haze, Kasa heard a familiar voice. Hanna was on screen, surrounded by reporters, her face drawn with worry. "Please, if anyone has seen my daughter Sophie..."
He didn't hear the rest. The mention of a reward sent the bar into chaos, but Kasa remained frozen, the untouched whiskey trembling in his hand.
What had he done?
"Here's another," Max said, sliding a fresh tumbler across the counter.
The eight o'clock news droned in the background until someone shouted, "Hey, turn that up!"
Through his alcohol-induced haze, Kasa heard a familiar voice. Hanna was on screen, surrounded by reporters, her face drawn with worry. "Please, if anyone has seen my daughter Sophie..."
He didn't hear the rest. The mention of a reward sent the bar into chaos, but Kasa remained frozen, the untouched whiskey trembling in his hand.
What had he done?
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