All the pain turned, in a single second, into something cold and clear and usable.

That smile did something no amount of Damian’s cruelty could have.

Because up until that moment, some hopeful, stupid, loving part of me had still been reading the scene as a tragedy — two people who had fallen into something terrible, who were sorry, who had hurt me by accident of their own weakness.

Valentina’s crying had supported that reading.

Damian shielding her had supported it.

And then I saw the smile, and the whole tragedy reorganized itself into what it actually was.