Isabella
Enzo’s eyes shrank and his chin dropped. He held onto the handle of the chair and gently stood up from his seat. “Impossible,” he muttered with his eyes on Rita. “It can't be,” he wobbled, gently walking down the platform.
Tears almost left my eyes when he walked past Travis. It was almost like he wasn’t there. He made his way towards Rita and held her hands.
There were clusters of tears in his eyes as he observed her rough outfit. “How are you alive?” he muttered. “Is this truly you, please tell me I am not dreaming.”
“It's me, father,” she answered. She was also in tears.
“My daughter is alive,” Enzo whispered. “My daughter has always been alive,” he said a bit louder and then turned toward the others. “No more meetings for today. Make a feast. Make a feast for the return
