AVELINA’S POV
By evening the sky turns grey, Rome no longer feels like home to me. It now feels like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode in my face.
We walk into the courtyard of the safe house, the fog is thick and with it comes a strong breeze. Noticing I was cold, Allessandro handed me his jacket.
“You already know the basics,” he says, handing me a wooden knife.
“A knife?” I ask.
“You asked me to teach you to protect yourself,” he replies. “This is step two.”
He steps closer to me —too close as my breaths starts to rise.
“Come at me,” he says quietly.
“Oh Allessandro. You will break.” I scoff.
“I won’t.”
His voice drops lower.
“But someone else will gladly take the honor... If you don’t learn now.”
His words sting, but he’s right.
I lunge at him.
He catches my wrist
