40: To solve the riddle

I refused to let the silence linger any longer. I turned towards him, gently placing my hands on his chest. His eyes pleaded with me, revealing the immense pain he had endured.

"She was killed in a drive-by shooting while we were walking from a coffee shop," he disclosed, his voice carrying a mixture of grief and frustration. "The police believed it was a random act, wrong place at the wrong time. But I knew better. It was an assassination attempt, and she took the bullet meant for me. Just two days later, my mother was killed, a bullet intended for my father."

The weight of his words hit me with a force I couldn't ignore. Tears welled up in my eyes once again, empathizing with the profound pain we had both experienced throughout the years.

He tilted his head and used his knuckle to wipe away my tears, bringing his finger to his mouth. A single tear slipped past his long, beautiful eyelashes, tracing a path down his face.

My heart ached for him, and without hesitation, I rose up on