Chapter 129
Drogen's body tensed, his grip on the wheel tightening as Natasha's question lingered in the air. When was his birthday? His pupils dilated slightly, the question hitting him harder than he expected. It wasn't something he had ever thought about before—how could he? He didn't even know who his parents were, let alone the day he was born. The thought clawed at something deep inside him, something raw and unhealed.
For a brief moment, he felt insignificant, like a shadow with no beginning or end. He'd spent so much of his existence as nothing more than a tool of death, moving from one soul to the next, his own identity forgotten in the process. And now, her innocent question had unearthed a part of him he had buried long ago, a part that yearned for something he thought he didn't deserve: belonging.
