“Why do you always have to decide before you tell me?” Frade asked, smoking hard on the couch. “Didn't I tell you to consult me before you made any decisions?”
“Because this time there is no room for negotiation.” I stood in front of him, looking at him like that. My heart felt extremely painful. But I had to tell him about my decision. We have to face the truth eventually.
“Mia was dead.”
Frade's face froze for a few seconds. “She's dead?”
“She escaped from the sanatorium, frantically searching for her father and questioning him as to why he had abandoned her. Mickle's bodyguard shot her for endangering the president. It happened right in front of me.”
I have mixed feelings about Mia's death. Even though she was detestable, her death was like a razor blade slicing through my unsuspecting skin. It was instant, clear pain.
Frade continued to smoke heavily. He didn't show much emotion about Mia's death. But I guess he felt the same way.
