Serena:
Morning came slowly.
Not golden or soft like I wanted it to—but gray, bruised, and humming with unsaid things.
No one said a word as we got dressed. There was no need. The silence was a language now—one we all spoke fluently.
I pulled on the clothes Matteo laid out for me—black leggings, one of Nico’s hoodies, socks that didn’t match. It was my armor, not bulletproof like theirs, but it was familiar.
They were already moving around the safehouse. Matteo was speaking low into a burner phone by the window, Luca pacing, sharp and silent, and Nico by the kitchen, pouring coffee like it might hold back the inevitable.
No one had slept much the night before.
I watched them for a while, pretending I wasn’t the weight in the room. I pretended I didn’t notice how their eyes kept flic
