Giovanni Moretti
The room felt suddenly oppressive, the shadows in the corners seeming to lengthen and stretch towards us. I could smell the faint metallic tang of blood mixed with antiseptic, a reminder of the ordeal Alessia had endured. My jaw clenched as I imagined what she must have gone through, alone and afraid.
"Dio mio," I whispered, bringing her hand to my lips. "Mi dispiace, cara mia. I'm so sorry."
As if in response to my words, Alessia stirred slightly. My heart leapt into my throat, every muscle in my body tensing as I leaned closer, watching for any sign of consciousness. For a moment, there was nothing but the soft sound of her breathing and the quiet hum of medical equipment.
Then, so faint I almost missed it, a small voice broke the silence.
"Can you please turn the l
