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**Chapter 10: The Shadows We Carry**
The vineyard buzzed with chaos as villagers gathered near the unearthed remains. Whispers rippled through the crowd, speculation ranging from old legends to dark secrets hidden beneath the vines. Isabella stood frozen, her eyes locked on the rusted locket glinting in the weak sunlight, the bones tangled in the roots like ghostly relics of the past.
Beside her, Luca's face was pale, his green eyes clouded with emotions she couldn't decipher. He didn't move, didn't speak, as though the weight of the discovery had rooted him to the spot. When the local constable arrived, his questions were sharp and relentless, but Luca gave no answers, his silence stretching uncomfortably between them.
"It's her, isn't it?" Isabella whispered later, when the crowd had dispersed and the constable began documenting the scene. "Emilia."
Luca turned to her, his expression shattering. "I don't know," he said, his voice hollow. "I—I thought she was buried in the cemetery. I don't know what this means."
The raw desperation in his voice made Isabella's heart ache. But before she could say more, Carlo's voice cut through the tension. "Of course he doesn't know," he said, stepping out from the shadows. "He's been living in this fantasy, pretending he's not connected to any of this."
Luca bristled, his jaw tightening. "What are you implying?"
Carlo smirked, his tone laced with venom. "You're the one who's always here, hiding away in this vineyard, clinging to memories. Maybe you're hiding more than just your grief."
Isabella stepped between them, her voice firm. "That's enough, Carlo. You don't know anything about this."
But Carlo's words had planted a seed of doubt she couldn't ignore. As the constable and his team worked late into the night, Luca's retreat to the stone house felt more isolating than ever.
Unable to shake her unease, Isabella followed him. She found him sitting at his desk, staring at the blank pages of his novel. For the first time, his walls seemed to crumble, his vulnerability laid bare.
"What if I did this?" Luca asked, his voice trembling. "What if I hurt her?"
The question stunned Isabella. She knelt beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm. "You're not capable of that," she said, though the words felt fragile. "You loved her. You couldn't have—"
"I don't know," Luca interrupted, his voice breaking. "I don't remember, Isabella. I don't remember what happened the night she died."
The weight of his confession hit her like a blow, and the room seemed to close in around them. For the first time, Isabella realized the shadows Luca carried were darker than she had imagined—and if they couldn't uncover the truth, those shadows might consume them both .
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