Matteo took the spatula back with the utmost care, as if it were made of glass. He followed her instructions to the letter — lowering the heat, waiting for the bubbles, flipping gently. His large hands moved with surprising gentleness under her guidance.
I stood frozen in the doorway, unable to look away.
This was the same man who commanded armies and silenced entire councils with a single look. Yet here he was, letting his five-year-old daughter teach him how to make pancakes, hanging on her every quiet word like it was the most important lesson in the world.
Tears stung my eyes. I had to look away, pressing a hand to my mouth as my chest tightened painfully.
The sight of Rose — who had spent so much of her short life quietly taking care of herself — patiently teaching her father some
