She was furious. She had never been so angry at Dimitra in her entire life. For the last two days there had been nothing. No further leads. No communication. Nothing.
Dimitra was handling with her kid gloves, worried the fact she had ruthlessly and coldly walked up to Trudy, looked her dead in the eyes and put a bullet in her head, would have changed her. She wasn’t changed. She was the same. The only comment she’d gotten from Miklos was a chuckle and a comment he was surprised she hadn’t shot her in the back of the head.
Kostas hadn’t treated her any differently at all. He’d been exactly the same as he’d been all along, hovering over her and offering support she felt she didn’t need. Then Friday afternoon, he’d left to say he needed to pick his mother up from the airport as she was alr
