Morning arrives quietly.
No gunfire.
No shouting.
No footsteps pounding up stairwells.
Just soft light pushing through the floor-to-ceiling windows and the low hum of a city waking up.
For a moment, I lie still and listen.
Traffic is beginning to build.
A distant car horn.
Someone was walking down the hallway outside the apartment.
Normal sounds.
They feel strange after everything.
I slip out of bed carefully, making sure Luca stays asleep. He’s sprawled sideways across the mattress, blanket kicked off, one hand curled near his face.
Peaceful.
Too innocent for the world he’s been dragged into.
I tuck the blanket back over him and step out.
The smell of coffee hits me before I reach the living area.
Strong. Dark. Real.
Giovanni stands near the kitchen island, sleeves rolled
