At that moment Maria couldn't blink. She didn't move. She just stood there, staring at the screen, her breath shallow.
"What… what happened?" she finally whispered. Her voice didn't even sound like hers.
However Valentina's father sat stiffly on the couch, his jaw locked, his eyes frozen on the news ticker. "I… I don't know," he said, slowly shaking his head. "According to the news, they're still investigating. But…"
He looked up at her, his expression pale. "They said it wasn't just him. Over thirty of them. Dead."
At that moment Maria turned toward him, her voice rising. "Thirty? Thirty men? What kind of animal kills thirty men in one place?"
Her knees buckled slightly, and she dropped onto the armrest of a nearby chair. Her hands trembled as she stared at the television. The camera showed glimpses of the mansion—black bags being carried out, flashing police lights, detectives pacing around.
"There has to be a mistake," she whispered. "This… this can't be real."
