It was Sunday just past eight in the morning, and the Romano mansion was still fully asleep, the kind of quiet that only happens on weekends when nobody has anywhere they need to be.

A phone rang somewhere in one of the far rooms tearing straight through that silence. It rang once buzzed itself out and went quiet. A few seconds later it started again.

Donato groaned into his pillow reaching a hand out from under the blanket without opening his eyes, patting the nightstand until he found it. He didn't check the screen before answering.

"Hello." His voice came out thick with sleep.

"Sir. I saw your wife."

His eyes snap opened. He pulled the phone back and looked at the name on the screen properly this time--one of the men he'd had out searching for years, someone he checked in with often enough that the number was saved under a name he recognized instantly. He sat up so fast the blanket slid off him completely.

"Wh-what did you say?" His voice wasn't steady anymore. He needed to hear it again needed to be sure he hadn't imagined it half asleep.

"Sir, I saw your wife. This morning."

"Wh-where." His hand had started shaking around the phone. "Where did you see her?"

"Here in Scanno, sir. I came yesterday to visit a relative of mine. This morning I went to a café here it's a well-known place, Caffè Rifugio, for coffee. And I saw a woman there who matches the photo you gave me. She's working there. I'm still standing outside the café right now."

"Are-are you sure. Are you sure it's her." He could barely get the words out.

"Sir, if you want, I can send you a photo."

"Please. Send it, if you can." His voice cracked on the last word, tears already building before he'd even seen anything. Less than a minute later the photo came through. A woman standing on the cafe door, laughing at something an older woman beside her had said, her hair pulled back the way it used to be, that exact tilt to her smile that he hadn't seen in five years and had never once managed to forget.

The tears came before he could stop them. "My-my Kiara." His voice broke completely. "Oh my god. It's her. It's my Kiara. She's alive. I knew it. I knew she was alive."

He called the man back immediately and asked for the exact address. The second he had it, he threw the phone down on the bed and ran straight into the bathroom. Ten minutes later he was back out, showered, dressed, moving faster than his own hands could keep up with as he yanked open his closet and shoved clothes into a bag without folding a single piece of it. Once it was done, he grabbed his keys, his wallet, his phone, and ran out of the room.

One of the staff, up early to start the morning cleaning, froze mid-step at the sight of him tearing down the hallway and out the front door like the house was on fire. Donato got into his car in the driveway, hands still trembling on the wheel, and pulled out of the gates faster than he'd driven in years, heading straight for the place where his wife--alive, breathing, real--had apparently been the entire time. It will take him a long time to reach there.
______

It's evening in scanno, time to close the cafe. nova wiped down the last of the counter, wringing out the cloth before hanging it to dry, while the old woman locked up the register and the old man scrubbed at the espresso machine, still humming something under his breath the way he did every evening when the day was finally winding down.

On the corner stool, Aria sat with her arms crossed tight over her chest, cheeks puffed out in the kind of pout that only a four-year-old could hold for this long without her face getting tired.

"Baby," Nova said not for the first time that evening, "why are you still angry?"

Aria didn't look at her. "Aria is not angry."

"You've had your arms crossed for twenty minutes."

"That's just how Aria sits now."

Nova bit back a smile and came around the counter, crouching in front of the stool so she was at eye level with her daughter. "Is this about tomorrow?"

That got a reaction--Aria's frown deepened, and she turned her face pointedly toward the window instead of her mother. "Baby, look at me."

"No."

"Aria."

"No, Mama." She finally turned, and there were actual tears building at the corners of her eyes now, angry ones, the kind that come from being upset rather than hurt. "Aria doesn't want to go to that school. Aria already told you that."

"I know you told me." Nova reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her daughter's ear. "But baby, you're turning five soon. All your friends already go. riri goes. Lio goes. You're the only one left who doesn't."

"So? Aria doesn't need to go like them." She uncrossed her arms just enough to gesture at herself, very seriously, like she was making an important point. "Aria already knows everything. Aria can count to one hundred. Aria knows her letters. Grandpa taught her how to make coffee foam. What is school going to teach Aria that Aria doesn't already know?"

Nova pressed her lips together to keep from laughing, because as ridiculous as it sounded coming from a four-year-old with flour still on her sleeve from helping with the buns that morning, there was something genuinely earnest in the way she said it.

"School isn't just about counting and letters, baby. You'll make new friends there. You'll learn to draw properly, and sing songs, and play games with other kids your age."

"Aria has friends already. Aria has you. And Grandpa. And Granny." She glanced toward the old woman, and her voice sharpened. "And it's her fault. Granny is the one who told Mama to send Aria away."

The old woman looked up from the register, eyebrows raised. "Excuse me?"

"You keep telling Mama every day, go to school, go to school." Aria's chin wobbled slightly now, the anger cracking to show what was actually underneath it. "You don't want Aria here anymore."

"Oh, baby, no." The old woman set down what she was holding and came over immediately, crouching beside Nova. "That's not it at all. Nobody's sending you away. You'll still come here every single day after school finishes. You'll help Grandpa with the coffee, same as always. This isn't about not wanting you here."

"Then why do I have to go?" Aria's voice cracked, and the tears finally spilled over, running down both cheeks now. "Aria likes it here. Aria likes helping Mama. What if-She hiccuped, trying to get the rest out. "What if Aria goes there and doesn't like it, and Mama isn't there, and nobody is there?"

Nova's chest ached at that, and she understood then what this had actually been about the whole time-not stubbornness, not really. Fear, wearing stubbornness as a disguise, the way it did in kids that age.

She pulled Aria off the stool and into her lap, holding her close while she cried it out. "Listen to me," Nova said softly, once the crying had eased into hiccups. "I promise you, on the very first day, I'm going to walk you there myself. I'll stay as long as they let me stay.

And I'll be right there waiting when it's time to pick you up, every single day, no matter what. You won't be alone there, baby. There'll be a teacher taking care of all of you, and I promise you'll find you're not the only one a little scared on the first day either."

Aria sniffled against her shoulder. "Promise?"

"I promise."

"What if Aria doesn't make friends?"

"You made friends with every single customer who walks through that door, and most of them are strangers to you the first time. I don't think making friends is going to be your problem." Nova kissed the top of her head. "I think you're going to walk in there and have three new best friends by lunchtime."

That got a small, reluctant huff out of Aria, not quite a laugh, but close.

"And," Nova added, "you'll still get to help Grandpa with the coffee every afternoon. That's not going anywhere. This just means mornings look a little different for a while."

Aria was quiet for a moment, working through it the serious way she worked through everything, thumb tracing the hem of her sleeve. "Okay," she said finally, very small. "But if Aria doesn't like it, can Aria stop going?"

Nova exchanged a glance with the old woman over Aria's head, both of them fighting smiles. "We'll see how the first week goes," Nova said, which was the kind of answer she'd learned worked best on her daughter--not quite a yes, not quite a no, just enough room for Aria to feel like she still had some say in it.

Aria seemed to accept that, at least for tonight, and finally let her arms uncross, leaning fully into her mother instead.
______

Donato pulled up to the location just as the evening was settling in, the light already starting to fade. His man was waiting near the car when he arrived, and Donato was out before the engine had fully died. And said lets go.

They exchanged a quick greeting, but before Donato could say anything else, the man held up a hand. "Sir, wait. The café's closed. They shut at six, and it's already six thirty. They closed about an half hour ago and left for the day."

"Then let's go to their house." Donato was already moving.

"Sir, I don't know where they live." The man hesitated, clearly not thrilled to be the one saying this. "When you called and said you were on your way, I came straight here. But by the time I arrived, the café was already closing. I asked a few people passing by, and they said it closes every day at six. I didn't see any of them leave, sir. I don't know where they went."

Donato exhaled hard, dragging a hand down his face. "So what am I supposed to do now?"

"They open again at six in the morning, sir. That's only about twelve hours from now. Then you can go in and meet them properly."

"Twelve hours." Donato said it like the number itself was absurd. "You said twelve hours like it's nothing. I can barely get through twelve seconds right now." He caught himself, exhaled again, quieter this time. "But you're right. There's nothing else to do. I waited five years for her. I can manage twelve more hours." He turned back toward his car. "I'll wait here. In the car."

"Sir." The man stepped in front of him slightly. "Where exactly are you planning to stay? In the car? All night?"

"Yes. I'll sit in the car, and the second she walks in tomorrow morning, I'll be right there to meet her."

The man hesitated again, choosing his words carefully. "Sir, this is a small village. People here aren't used to strangers, and they're not so open minded about it. If someone sees a man sitting in a parked car outside a shop all night, they might assume you're up to something. Might call someone.

Or, sir, honestly, it could go the other way too--someone could see a car sitting alone all night and decide to rob you instead."

Donato stared at him for a second, processing that slower than he normally would have. "Okay. Fine. I'll find a hotel somewhere."

"There is one, sir, but it's about an hour's drive from here."

"What choice do I have." Donato rubbed at his eyes. "I can't exactly sleep in the street. I need somewhere to be tonight."

The man shifted his weight then said, a little awkwardly "Sir if you don't mind --you could stay with me. My grandfather lives alone in the end of the village. That's actually why I came here myself, to see him. He wouldn't mind putting up one more person for the night."

"Are you sure he won't mind me showing up unannounced?"

"I'll just tell him you're my boss, sir. He won't ask questions."

Donato nodded slowly. "Alright. Let's go." They got into the car and pulled away from the café, heading toward the edge of the village.

Above the café, in the small apartment built over the shop, a curtain fell shut. Nova stood just behind it, having watched the entire exchange from the window without either man noticing-- two strangers standing outside the shop for the better part of half an hour, talking in low, urgent voices, clearly not from around here. Who are they. Why were they standing out there so long.

"Nova, sweetheart, what are you doing over there?" the old woman called from the kitchen. "Come help, we need to start Aria's favorite tonight."

Nova glanced back. "Coming, aunty." She took one last look out the window at the empty road where the car had disappeared, something uneasy sitting in her chest that she couldn't quite name, then shook her head, let the curtain fall fully closed, and turned away from the window.
______

The man's grandfather turned out to be exactly the kind of person you'd expect from a house at the edge of a small village-- not much for questions, but generous the second he understood someone needed a place to stay.

He waved off Donato's attempt to apologize for the intrusion before it even finished coming out of his mouth, and had a plate set for him at the table within minutes, like feeding an unexpected guest was simply what evenings were for out here.

Dinner passed quietly. Donato answered when spoken to, thanked the old man more than once, but most of him wasn't really in the room. Afterward, the grandson showed him to a small room at the back of the house--plain, a little dusty, a single bed against the wall and a window that let in the last of the evening light.

He left a folded set of clothes on the edge of the bed for Donato to change into, said something about the bathroom being down the hall, and left him to it. Donato sat down on the edge of the bed and didn't move for a long time.

He didn't touch the clothes. Didn't think to. His mind had been circling the same handful of questions since the moment he'd seen that photograph, and now, alone in a quiet room with nothing left to distract him, they came at him all at once, one after another, refusing to settle into any order.

If Kiara had been alive this whole time--safe, apparently, unharmed enough to be standing behind a counter laughing with an old woman--then why hadn't she come to him. Five years. Five years of searching, of nights exactly like this one, and she'd been here, in a village he'd never even heard of, hours from anywhere that mattered.

How. How did she end up all the way out here. Who was she staying with. Why was she working in a café, of all things, like she'd just built an entirely different life for herself somewhere he could never have thought to look.

And underneath all of it, quieter, the question he didn't actually want an answer to. Did she hate me so much that she never wanted to come back. He didn't remember lying down. He didn't remember his eyes closing. At some point the questions blurred into something less sharp, and exhaustion did what it always eventually does, pulling him under before he'd resolved a single one of them.

His phone sat on the small table by the window, screen lighting up every so often with a message from enzo. From aravi, checking in, asking where he is , where he disappeared since morning.

He didn't hear any of it. He was somewhere else already--in whatever place dreams take the people who've spent five years waiting for one particular face, and tonight, finally, that face was hers. Tomorrow he would see her again, actually see her, not in a photograph, not in his own memory replaying itself for the thousandth time.

What he would say to her. How she would look at him when she realized who he was. Whether there'd be anything left in her eyes that still recognized him as someone she used to love.

His mind turned it over and over, every version of tomorrow branching into another, and every single one of them came back to the same name. Kiara. The only person who could actually answer any of it. The only one who could give him back whatever peace he'd lost the day he stopped being able to find her.
_____

Morning came gently over Scanno, the streets already smelling of fresh coffee and warm bread, the kind of quiet that made the whole village feel like it was easing into the day rather than starting it.

Inside Nova's house, it was anything but quiet. She'd woken up and reached for Aria out of habit, the way she did every morning, only to find the other side of the bed empty. She'd assumed the bathroom at first. Then the kitchen. Then she'd checked with the old woman, with the old man, and by the time all three of them had confirmed nobody had seen her, the truth had settled in.

Aria was hiding somewhere in the house, on purpose, running out the clock so there wouldn't be time left to take her to school.
They'd split up to search. Fifteen minutes of calling her name into every corner of the house, and still nothing. The front door was locked, too high for Aria to reach on her own, so at least Nova knew she hadn't wandered outside. That left the house. Every inch of it.

"Nova, go get her clothes ready," the old woman finally called out, a little breathless from bending under the kitchen table for the third time. "We'll keep looking. We've only got half an hour left before school starts."

Nova nodded and went back into her own room, scanning it again even though she'd already checked it twice. She pulled open the closet, meaning only to grab Aria's dress, and stopped.

The clothes inside were a mess, all shoved to one side in an uneven, lumpy pile that hadn't been like that last night. She frowned, reaching in to start sorting them back into place, and then went completely still when the pile shifted on its own.

She pulled the clothes back and there, curled up underneath them, arms wrapped around her knees, was Aria. "Oh my god." Nova pressed a hand to her chest. "Aria. What are you doing in here?"

Aria kept her eyes shut, both hands pressed over them like that made her invisible, facing pointedly away from her mother.
"Aria, I know you can hear me." No response. Just a small, stubborn huff.

Nova sighed and put both hands on her hips. "Come out of the closet. Right now."

"Aria's not here," came the muffled voice from inside the pile of clothes.

"You're literally talking to me from in there."

"That's not Aria. That's a ghost."

Despite everything, Nova nearly laughed, but she caught herself, kneeling down instead so she was level with the closet. "Baby, we don't have time for this. You need to get ready. School starts soon."

At that, Aria's hands finally dropped from her eyes, and she glared out from the pile of clothes, her face already blotchy. "Aria isn't going."

"Aria we already talk about this."

"No." She scrambled further back into the closet, as far as she could go. "Aria wants to stay home with Mama."

"You'll be home by lunchtime I already told you that." Nova reached in and gently started untangling her from the clothes, pulling out the little yellow dress she'd need for today and setting it aside. "Come on, get up."

"No." Aria's chin was wobbling now. "If Aria goes to school, Mama will forget about her."

Nova's hands stilled for half a second. "Baby, that's not true."

"It is true." Her voice cracked, and real tears started now, not the performance kind from last night. "Mama wants Aria to go away. That's why Mama is sending Aria to school. Mama doesn't want Aria around anymore."

"Aria, that is not- Nova felt her own throat tighten unexpectedly, caught off guard by how much that landed. "That's not true at all, baby, why would you even think that?"

"Because Aria is always with Mama, every day, and now Mama wants Aria somewhere else." She wiped roughly at her face with the back of her hand, more upset than angry now. "So Mama doesn't love Aria as much anymore."

Nova felt her own eyes sting, and she pulled her daughter fully out of the closet and into her lap right there on the floor, not caring about the dress crumpling between them.

"Listen to me." She held Aria's face in both hands, waiting until her daughter actually looked at her. "It's not like that. Not even a little bit. I love you so much, baby, more than anything in this whole world. Sending you to school isn't me wanting you away from me.

It's because I want good things for you-- friends your own age, things to learn, a whole life outside of just me and Granny and Grandpa and this café. That's not because I love you less. It's because I love you enough to want more for you than just staying home with me every single day."

Aria sniffled, still not fully convinced, but listening now at least. "You promise you're not sending Aria away because Mama doesn't want her?"

"I promise." Nova pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I could never not want you around, Aria. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. You know that."

Aria was quiet for a moment, turning that over. "Even though Aria hid in the closet and made everyone late?"

A small, watery laugh escaped Nova despite herself. "Even then. Though we really do need to get you dressed right now, or we're going to be very, very late."

Aria let herself be pulled up off the floor, still sniffling but no longer fighting it, and stood there with her arms half raised while Nova worked the yellow dress over her head. "It has a bee on it," Aria said, looking down at the small embroidered bee near the hem, some of the fight already draining out of her voice.

"I know. You picked it out yourself, remember? You said you wanted to look like you belonged outside with the flowers."

"Aria remembers." She said it like she was surprised to be reminded of her own good decision. She turned in a small circle, letting the skirt of it swing out, and for a second she almost looked pleased with herself before she caught it and forced the frown back onto her face, like she didn't want to give up the argument that easily.

Nova crouched down to buckle her shoes, glancing up every few seconds at her daughter's face, still blotchy from crying. "Better?"

"A little," Aria admitted, grudging.

From the hallway, the old woman's voice came calling. "Is she found? Nova, we're going to be late if we don't leave in the next five minutes."

"Found and dressed," Nova called back, standing and smoothing down the front of the dress. "Come on, let's get your hair done quickly."

She sat Aria down on the edge of the bed and worked through her hair fast, practiced hands braiding it into the same two plaits she did most mornings, tying them off with the small ribbons Aria had insisted on last week and never let go of since.

"Mama."

"Mm?"

"What if the teacher doesn't like Aria?"

Nova finished the second braid and turned her daughter gently by the shoulders so they were facing each other. "That's not possible. You're the most likeable person I know. You made three regular customers laugh yesterday just by telling them about your eyes."

"That's true," Aria said, brightening slightly at the reminder.

"See? You're going to be fine."

"What if Aria doesn't like the teacher?"

"Then you tell me tonight, and we'll figure it out together. But you won't know until you try, will you?"

Aria considered this with the same seriousness she considered everything, chewing on the inside of her cheek. "Okay," she said finally, quietly, like she was granting a favor rather than agreeing. "Aria will try. Just for today."

"Just for today," Nova agreed, even though they both knew it would end up being more than that, and reached out to take her hand. "Come on. Grandpa's probably already got your bag by the door."

They came out of the room together, and the old woman let out a breath of visible relief at the sight of them, already reaching for her shawl. "Finally. Come, come, let's fill your tummy fast. we have to hurry or we'll miss the morning line at the gate."

After having her breakfast they all move towards the door. Aria's grip on Nova's hand tightened slightly as they stepped out the door, and Nova gave it a small squeeze back, the two of them falling into step behind the old woman as the morning outside carried on, warm and ordinary, with no sign yet of what--or who--was about to walk back into all of their lives before the day was over.
_____

They reached the gates of Aria's kindergarten, and to both Nova's and the old woman's surprise, Aria's mood shifted almost the instant she saw the place. The building was painted in soft yellows and greens, little chalk drawings scattered across the courtyard walls, and children her own age already running around in loose clusters near the entrance.

Whatever resistance she'd been holding onto all morning seemed to lose its grip the moment she took it all in. She studied the other children with an intensity that looked almost professional, tracking each face like she was cataloguing something important.

"What are you looking at so closely, baby?" Nova asked, watching her daughter's eyes move from one small group to the next.

"Aria noticed something."

"And what's that?"

"Aria noticed nobody here has green eyes." She said it with the same quiet triumph she'd had the day before, chin lifting slightly. "Just like in the whole village. Aria is the only one with green eyes. Even here."

"Yes, baby, you're the only one." Nova smoothed a hand over her hair, smiling despite the tightness building in her own chest. "My baby is so beautiful. I'm sure everyone here is going to want to be your friend."

"Aria is beautiful and has green eyes because of Aria's dada." Then something shifted across her small face, a thought arriving all at once. "Mama, if you ever talk to Papa, tell him he can come back now. Aria is big now, and Aria goes to school. So Papa doesn't need to earn so much money anymore, tell him he can stop and come home. Once Aria finishes studying, Aria will earn for everyone instead."

Nova didn't answer right away. She wasn't sure what to say to that, the words landing somewhere deep and complicated in her chest. She'd known, in some abstract way, that Aria thought about her father-- but hearing it said so plainly, so hopefully, made it clear this wasn't a passing thought for her daughter at all. She missed him, whoever he was, even without ever having met him. I hope your wish comes true, baby, Nova thought, unable to say it out loud.

The teacher came out to collect the new students, calling names cheerfully from a small clipboard, and when she reached Aria she crouched down to her level with a warm, easy smile, saying something that made Aria's whole face light up in response.

There was no tantrum, no last-minute clinging. Aria hugged the old woman goodbye, kissed her mother's cheek, waved at both of them with a wide grin, and walked off toward the classroom beside her new teacher like she'd been doing it for years.

Nova watched her go, her chest heavy in a way she hadn't fully braced for. Even knowing it was for the best, even having spent the whole morning convincing Aria of exactly that, watching her small figure disappear through the classroom door still made something in Nova want to run after her.

She turned to the old woman instead, forcing her voice steady. "Aunty, you go on home. I'll come in an hour. I just want to stay a little longer, in case she starts crying and needs me."

The old woman patted her arm gently, understanding without needing more explanation. "Of course, sweetheart. Come home safe. She's in good hands, you don't need to worry so much."

Nova nodded, said goodbye, and sat down on one of the benches near the gate, eyes fixed on the school entrance even though there was nothing left to see. Her mind drifted, unbidden, to what Aria had said about her father.

She hadn't let herself think about him much these past five years --there hadn't seemed to be any point, not with nothing to go on, no name, no face, nothing but a blank space where a husband should have been. But sitting here now, she found herself turning it over anyway. Who was he. Did he know about the pregnancy.

The doctor had confirmed she was already a month along when they found her, which meant, if he existed, if he was even looking for her at all, he would have known too. And if he'd known, and still nobody had come--not in five years--then the only explanation that made any sense to her was the one she kept landing on, over and over, no matter how much she didn't want to believe it.

He had left her there. In the middle of a forest, pregnant, alone. Whatever had happened, whoever she used to be, someone had decided she wasn't worth coming back for.

Who was she, five years ago. What family had she belonged to. What had her name even been, before Nova. The questions circled without ever landing anywhere solid, the way they always did, and eventually she let them go the way she'd trained herself to-- there was no answer waiting at the end of any of it, not until her memory decided, on its own time, to give her one back.

So she sat there, patient the way she'd learned to be, and waited for the hour to pass.
____

After Donato woke, he freshen up, and had a cup of coffee mostly because the old man had insisted on it more than once, refusing to let him leave the house on an empty stomach. His first stop after that was the café-only to find it still shuttered when he arrived. He asked around, and someone pointed him toward the kindergarten a few streets over, mentioning offhand that the owner's family had gone there that morning.

He waited near the café for a while first, watching the street, and eventually saw the old woman walking back alone. No Nova. That was when it occurred to him--if she was still there, by herself, this might actually be the moment he'd been waiting five years for. No crowd. No one to interrupt. Just the two of them.
So he drove to the school himself.

The second he saw her sitting on the bench near the gate, everything in him went still. His breath caught somewhere in his chest and refused to move. There she was. Kiara Romano, sitting twenty feet away, exactly the way he remembered her sitting--that same posture, chin slightly tilted, lost somewhere inside her own head.

A tear slid down before he even registered its building. He wiped it away quickly, forced a breath into his lungs, and got out of the car. He crossed the distance toward her slowly, and when he reached the bench, he sat down beside her without a word, waiting for her to notice him on her own.

She didn't. She was too deep in her own thoughts to register anyone sitting down beside her at all. He cleared his throat.
That finally pulled her attention. She turned her head toward the sound, and for a fraction of a second there was nothing on her face but mild curiosity--and then recognition of a different kind entirely.

That's the same man. The one who was standing outside the shop yesterday. Her expression shifted immediately, wary now, and she shifted a few inches away from him on the bench without quite meaning to make it obvious.

Donato's smile fell. Why is she looking at me like I'm a stranger. He shifted slightly closer, an instinct more than a decision. Nova slid further away in response. He moved again, barely thinking about it, chasing the distance without realizing what it looked like from her side.

That was what finally broke something in her. She stood up fast, putting real space between them this time. 'Who are you Mr? "What do you want." Her voice had an edge to it now, sharp, defensive. "Are you following me?"

Donato stood too, hands coming up slightly, placating. "K-Kiara, it's not-

"Stop." She cut him off before he could finish, backing up another step. "Stop calling me that. Who is Kiara? I don't know anyone named Kiara. My name is Nova."

His eyes went wide, the ground shifting under him in a way he hadn't braced for. "Wh-what are you saying. Kiara, it's me. You don't-you don't recognize me?"

She wasn't listening anymore. She'd already turned and started walking fast, away from the bench, away from him.

"Kiara, please." He went after her, voice cracking on her name. "Please, just listen to me for one second-He reached out and caught her wrist.

She spun around so fast he barely saw it coming, and then.

slap

A hard slap landed before either of them had fully processed it- a sharp crack across his cheek, hard enough that his head turned slightly with it. She yanked her arm free ''dont touch me she said'' and was already moving again, faster now, putting real distance between them before he'd even had a chance to recover.

Donato stood frozen where she'd left him, one hand slowly coming up to touch the side of his face, still stinging, watching her small figure disappear down the street. "What," he said, mostly to himself, voice barely above a whisper. "What just happened."

He didn't move for a long moment. His cheek still burned, but that wasn't what had rooted him to the spot. It was her face- the way she'd looked at him. Not angry the way a person is angry at someone they love who's hurt them. Angry the way a person is angry at a stranger crowding their space.

She hadn't recognized him. Not even a flicker.He finally forced his legs to work and started after her, slower this time, keeping enough distance that he wouldn't spook her again. She'd stopped at the corner, one hand braced against the stone wall of a building, breathing hard, like the running had cost her more than the distance should have.

"Kiara-He caught himself. "Kiara Please. I'm not going to touch you again, I swear. Just give me a minute. Just-listen to me once."

She didn't stop. Just shot him one last glare over her shoulder and kept walking, faster now, until she'd turned the corner and was gone from sight.

Donato took a step to follow her, but his phone rang, cutting through everything. He stopped, dragged it out of his pocket, saw Enzo's name on the screen. He knew if he didn't answer, Enzo would just keep calling, so he picked up. Before he could get a word out, Enzo's voice came through, already shouting.

"For fuck's sake, Donato Romano, where are you? I swear to god I will kill you myself if you've gotten yourself into some kind of trouble."

Donato opened his mouth, closed it, tried again. "E-Enzo," he whispered, and that was all that came out.

Enzo went quiet on the other end. Something in that one word had landed wrong, and he could hear it immediately.

"Darling, what happened. Are you okay? Where did you go? The staff said you left with a bag this morning, in a rush, nobody knew where. What's going on?"

"Enzo." Donato's voice cracked. "I-I found her."

"Found who?" Enzo's voice sharpened. "Donato, what are you talking-wait. What did you just say. Her?"

"Yes, Enzo." His breath shook coming out. "I found her. My wife. I found my love."

Silence, on the other end, long enough that Donato thought the call might have dropped. "Are--are you serious right now." Enzo's voice had gone tight, urgent. "Where are you. Where did you find her?"

"Here. A small village called Scanno. She's here, Enzo, I saw her. I actually saw her, but-

"But what, Donato."

"But she didn't recognize me." His voice broke fully this time. "Kiara--my Kiara--she looked right at me and didn't know who I was. She asked me who I am . She said she doesn't even know that kiara name."

"Donato." Enzo's voice softened, but there was steel underneath it now, the sound of someone already moving. "Don't panic, okay? I'm coming. There's probably some explanation for this, maybe she's overwhelmed, maybe it's something else entirely, I don't know--just wait for me. Don't do anything else until I get there. We'll talk to her together. Okay?"

"Okay," Donato said, barely audible. The call cut off.

How it's going?🤔