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But all I can see is how tired Nonna looks. How much weight she’s lost. How her smiles don’t quite reach her eyes anymore.

My shoulders tremble as the sobs deepen, body rocking in Bea’s arms.

And through it all, one image keeps slipping in where it doesn’t belong—

Vieri.

His voice, his touch. The way he whispered that I was safe. That I was his.

And the way he left me with nothing but guilt.

How can I miss someone who ruined everything? How can my heart reach for him while my soul is falling apart beside the only woman who’s ever truly loved me?

I shake harder, the grief tangling with confusion, with guilt, with that unbearable ache for a man who never should have mattered.

Bea holds me tighter, humming now, as if she knows words would only make it worse.

I don’t know how long I cry.

But it feels like something inside me breaks open quietly, like glass beneath pressure—never shattering, just... giving up.

****

Bea left an hour ago to help her mother, promising to return before night settled fully. Now it’s just me and Nonna. Her breaths are soft again, shallow and spaced far apart.

The Bible sits by her pillow, its pages worn, edges curling in places. The rosary lies atop it—glinting like a reminder of who I used to be. Of who I want to be again.

My fingers ache to reach for it. To touch the cross and beg God to give me a miracle.

But I don’t. I just stare.

What if I’m not worthy? What if everything I’ve done—all the sin and shame and the man I gave myself to—means that when I pray, God won’t hear me anymore?

Nonna’s hand shifts, her body slowly stretching as if waking from a long nap. She turns her head and her gaze finds mine. Usually, her eyes are clouded with confusion, not recognition.

But this time, she smiles.

“My baby,” she whispers.

A sharp gasp leaves me. Tears rush down without warning as I lurch forward. “Nonna?”

Her hand rises—fragile, trembling—and cups my cheek. Warmth floods me from that small touch, something I’d missed for so long it feels like breathing again after being underwater.

“I’m so sorry,” I sob, curling against her side. “I should’ve come home. I should’ve stayed. I was gone and you were here and—”

“No, no, my girl.” Her voice is cracked but certain. “I failed. I couldn’t protect you. I promised I would. I swore to your parents I’d never let anyone hurt you.”

“You didn’t fail,” I cry, shaking my head. “You saved me. You always saved me.”

She blinks slowly, as if every breath is precious. “I don’t have much time, Lunetta. My heart... it’s tired. I’ve lived a long life. And now... it’s calling me.”

“No,” I whisper. “Nonna, I need you. Please don’t say that. Please.”

She smiles, eyes wet with the truth. “God knows I tried. I tried to keep you safe. I tried to do right by Lena and Vasco. But maybe the Lord had a different plan.”

I clutch her hand tightly. “Don’t talk like that. You’re getting better. You’re going to walk out of here. We’ll go back to the café and we’ll—”

“There’s a trust in your name,” she interrupts gently. “It’s all arranged. You’ll find the documents in the drawer at home. You won’t need to work a day in your life if you don’t want to.”