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051: "I Know Who You Are. I Can Smell The Need For Chaos. You Are Meant To Spill More Blood, Boy."

(ENZO'S POINT OF VIEW)

(FLASHBACK)

Enzo, 14 years old, entered the kitchen to find his mother over the stove. He came to a halt, his gaze fixed on her back. He studied her with his head tilted. Even if she was hiding so well, he could see how her hands trembled now and then as she stirred whatever she was cooking in the pot, and how she held back a hiss whenever the heat got too hot on the bruises on her hand.

"Mother." He called, and the woman turned so quickly that she nearly flipped her pot of food.

When she realized it was just him, she giggled apprehensively. "Enzo, how long have you been standing there? You scared me. Please do not do that again; I am getting old."

She was not old; she was only in her late 30s. However, looking at her, one might mistakenly believe she was in her 50s. Even someone in their fifties appeared much better. Enzo could not recall the last time she had taken care of herself without worrying about his well-being or catering to her so-called husband.

Enzo
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