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“Are you sure this is what he wants? He’s been away from you for years, Vesper. Family is what he needs right now.”

“He's already agreed. I asked him yesterday. He said he would do it for me, for Matteo. For our family's legacy. But, I think, a part of him knows going back to Boston, to our family home, will not be easy.”

“He didn't mention it.”

“Perhaps he was waiting for the right moment.” I rest my hand on Alex’s forearm. “Or perhaps he was waiting to see if you would stay with him.”

A muscle works in Alex's jaw as he processes my words.

“I will always love you, Alex, but you deserve to find what you’re looking for, too.”

"What if I don't know what I'm looking for?"

"I think you do." I reach out, my fingers brushing his arm. "Sometimes we find things we never knew we needed until they're right in front of us."

Alex shifts Matteo in his arms, the movement so natural it seems he's been holding babies his entire life rather than mere minutes. “Your brother deserves better than me to protect him, Vesper.”

“My brother deserves someone who understands him. Someone who doesn't flinch from the darkness because they've walked through it themselves. Someone who comes when the nightmares are at their worst. Someone who can build him up again when he finally shatters.”

Emotion flickers across Alex's face—doubt, longing, fear.

“What if I'm too broken to be anything but a shadow at his side?”

“We're all broken, Alex. That's how the light gets in.” I smile softly.

Matteo stirs against Alex's chest, his peaceful expression crumpling as his mouth forms a 'o' of displeasure. A soft whimper escapes his lips, quickly building toward something more insistent.

“I think our moment of peace is over,” I reach for my son as his whimpers turn to tiny protests. Alex transfers him to my arms with that same careful precision.

Matteo's cries grow more determined as I settle him against me, his little face flushing with the effort of making his needs known. “I think someone might be hungry.” I adjust him against my shoulder and pat his back soothingly. I turn toward the nursery, but pause, looking back at Alex, who stands illuminated in the moonlight, suddenly looking uncertain without Matteo in his arms.

“Alex, thank you. For everything.”

He nods, that almost-smile touching his lips again.

I hesitate, watching him for a moment longer. “Will you think about what I said? About staying with Luca?”

Alex's expression grows distant, thoughtful. “I will.”

“Good,” I reply, meaning it. “Because he needs you. More than either of you realize.”

LUCA - THREE MONTHS LATER

The dead don't scream,but I do.

I wake up with the taste of blood in my mouth, my own this time from biting my tongue. The sheets are drenched, clinging to my skin like a shroud as I gasp for air that won't come. The faces from my nightmare—Mario, my father, the nameless women in the facility—they're still there, burned onto the backs of my eyelids.

I'm drowning in sweat and terror when I hear the soft click of my bedroom door. My hand instinctively reaches for the knife I keep under my pillow.

Alex's massive frame fills the doorway. He doesn't turn on the light or speak immediately. Instead, he waits, giving me time to recognize him, to remember where I am. Who I am.

I force myself to breathe, counting silently to ten like Vesper taught me. In through the nose, out through the mouth. My heart still pounds against my ribs like it's trying to escape.

"Same dream?" he asks, stepping into the room.

I nod, not trusting my voice to form words yet. The sheets are still tangled around my legs, clinging like a damp weight I need to shed.

“You bit your tongue,” Alex observes, his accent thicker in the dim light. He moves to the bathroom without turning on the lights, returning with a damp cloth that he offers without comment.