Marco stood outside the medical room, his hand hovering near the door panel. Violet had told him Elena was stable enough for visitors. That she'd recovered physically—the cuts healing, the bruises fading, the dehydration corrected.
But Marco didn't know if she'd want to see him. He took a breath and pressed the panel.
The door slid open. Elena sat on the edge of a medical bed, wearing simple gray clothes similar to what Marco had been given. Her arms were bandaged, her face still showing faint bruises, but she looked… better. Alert. Strong.
She looked up as he entered.Her expression went hard.
"Get out!!," she yelled
Marco froze. "I just wanted to—"
"I said get out." Elena's voice was cold, controlled. "I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear your excuses. I want you to leave."
"Please," Marco said, staying near the door. "Just give me one minute. Then I'll go."
Elena stared at him for a long moment. Then: "Fine. One minute. Talk."
Marco took a breath. "I'm sorry. For what happened to you. For what my father's people did. I knew you were being held. I knew you were being questioned. I didn't know—"
"Didn't know what?" Elena interrupted, her voice sharp. "Didn't know they were torturing me? Didn't know they cut my arms open? Didn't know they were going to kill me?"
She stood up, wincing slightly, and walked closer. "Or you didn't want to know? Because it's easier to pretend the Saint Patro is just a business. Just deals and money and territory. Not torture. Not murder."
Marco's jaw tightened. "I didn't order it."
"But you didn't stop it either." Elena's eyes were blazing now. "You knew I helped them. You knew I gave information about your weapons deal. And you knew what happens to people who cross your father."
"I should have checked," Marco said quietly. "I should have made sure you were being treated—"
"Treated humanely?" Elena laughed bitterly. "I was a prisoner, Marco. There's no humane way to torture someone for information."
"You're right." He said
"Damn right I'm right." Elena crossed her arms, then winced and uncrossed them—the bandages still too tight. "So why are you here? To make yourself feel better? To ease your guilt?"
"No," Marco said. "I'm here because I owe you the truth."
"What truth?" She questioned
"That I'm not going back to that life. I'm not my father's son anymore. I'm learning to use this—" He let purple smoke wisp from his hand. "—and I'm going to use it to stop people like my father. People who do what was done to you."
Elena studied him, her expression unreadable. "Pretty words. But I've heard pretty words before. From your father. From Salmo. From every Saint Patro enforcer who smiled before they hurt someone."
"I know."
"So why should I believe you're any different?"
Marco looked down at his hands. "I don't know if you should. I haven't earned it. But…" He looked back up, meeting her eyes. "I'm trying. And maybe that's not enough. Maybe it never will be. But I wanted you to know that what happened to you—it matters. You matter. And I'm sorry."
Elena was quiet for a long moment.
Then: "Your minute's up."
Marco nodded. "Right. I'll go."
He turned toward the door.
"Marco."
He stopped, looking back.
Elena's expression had softened slightly—not forgiving, but less hostile. "The people here saved me. Kínitos and Monti risked their lives. Violet put me back together. They didn't have to. But they did."
She paused. "If they think you're worth training, worth trusting… then maybe you are. But I'm not there yet. So don't ask me to forgive you. Don't ask me to accept your apology."
"What should I do?" His eyes widen
"Prove it," Elena said simply. "Become someone different than who your father raised you to be. Actually do the work. Stop the people who do what was done to me. And maybe—maybe—we can talk again."
Marco nodded slowly. "I will."
"Then go," Elena said, sitting back down on the bed. "And don't come back until you've actually changed something."
Marco left, the door sliding shut behind him.
His chest felt tight. Not from relief—from the weight of what she'd said.
Prove it.
Not with words. With action.