They left before dawn. No sound, no words. Only the murmur of rain and soft motions against the ancient glass.
I walked beside him, keeping my gaze on the ground and keeping up with his pace. He winced occasionally, the kind of pain that is audible without sound. She always noticed, even if he tried to hide it.
The smell of wet concrete and gun oil filled the air outside. By the rear gate, a black car was waiting. Matteo nodded briefly and opened the door. "The next patrol is in twenty minutes."
Damiano was the first to slide into the seat. Isabella trailed behind, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, fingers grazing the thin chain she still wore beneath her shirt. He looked at her for a moment, like he remembered it too—the night he’d fastened it around her neck before walking into th
