I couldn’t bring myself to care about grandfather. He had been cruel to ignore what was right in front of him.
"Greta," Hammer said softly, his voice carrying a weight I wasn’t sure I was ready to carry. I looked at him, blankly, the emptiness between us almost tangible. His shoulders dropped slightly as guilt crept across his face. I knew, deep down, he hadn’t been in control, that he’d just been following orders.
Silver nudged me, her gentle reassurance a silent reminder that he was still him, the same one I had once called a friend. She liked him and didn’t understand the distance I had built between us.
"It hurt, Hammer," I finally mumbled, my voice smaller than I intended. "I know you had to do what you were told, but we were friends. Or at least, I thought we were."
The regre
