Marco stood alone, the hurtful words of Benjo still echoing in his ears. He had been accused, betrayed, and left alone by the very people he considered family. The pain was unbearable, the betrayal stinging more than any physical wound.
He looked at the Blood Queen, her face a mask of innocence as she clung to Benjo. Her deception had worked perfectly, driving a wedge between him and his friends.
Rico and Lyra, although silent, had their doubts written all over their faces. The trust they had in him was wavering, replaced by suspicion and disappointment. It was a bitter pill to swallow.
As Marco walked away, his heart heavy with despair, he couldn't help but wonder if things could ever go back to the way they were. Would his friends ever trust him again? Or was he doomed to walk this path alone?