Page 199 of The Devil's Fire

“Baby… our baby?” I asked, my tone detached as I placed a hand on my stomach. Memories of the pain in the woods and the sight of blood flooding down my legs rushed back.

Damiano looked at me, his hands cradling my face, sadness clear in his eyes.

“The trauma was too much... your body couldn’t handle it.” He explained gently. I took a sharp breath, my heart squeezing so much I was sure it would stop beating. “You had a miscarriage.” He whispered, his voice heavy with sorrow.

His words hung in the air, and I struggled to understand. Pregnant with his child, the baby we had seen on the screen, the one we had grown to love and cherish… it was all gone. Everything we had excitedly expected had vanished in the blink of an eye.

“Our… baby… is… gone?” I couldn’t register the sudden crash of despair and mourning; instead, I felt numb and paralyzed.

Why?

The question lingered, but I hesitated to voice it, afraid of the answer. Instead, I was consumed by an overwhelming sense of loss.

I lost everything.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you in time.” Damiano buried his face in my neck, his hold remaining firm as I stared blankly out the window.

His repeated apologies echoed, but everything still felt surreal. Somehow, I clung to the hope of waking up from this nightmare, longing for an end to this unbearable torment. But as time passed, the harsh reality of my nightmare settled in.

“But… why?” I whispered. He lowered his shaking head, unable to meet my eyes. “My dad… I want my dad.” I muttered.

“I will get him.” Ellie said, leaving the room.

Damiano leaned back, his eyes reflecting a turmoil I had never witnessed before. I wanted to comfort him, but I felt so lost, confused, and empty.

The door opened again, revealing my father with Michael trailing behind him. I broke down once more.

“Papá…” I cried out, reaching for him instinctively, much like I would have when I was a kid. My father hurried to my side and enveloped me in his embrace. “They took my mom from me.” I sobbed, clinging tightly to him, terrified of losing the only parent I had left.

“They are going to pay for it. I promise you, figlia.” My father assured me, his hand rubbing my back comfortingly. Michael stepped closer, holding my hand for support, his eyes reflecting the same sadness I felt.

I knew my mother meant almost as much to him as she did to me. She had cared for us all, offering a love that couldn’t be replaced. And now she was just… gone. A part of me resisted accepting it, holding onto a sliver of hope that it wasn’t true. Yet, deep down, I knew the painful reality.

“God, why…” I cried. The loss of my baby, whom I loved and cared for deeply, multiplied the pain in my body; it was a constant reminder of my misery.

“My mom and my baby… they’re gone.” I whispered between sobs. Michael tensed at my words, a frown creasing his forehead.

“Your… baby?” Confusion colored his expression.

I remained silent, wrapping my arm around my stomach. His eyes followed my movements until realization dawned on him. Michael’s hand squeezed mine, and he shot a cold, questioning look at Damiano.

Overwhelmed, I closed my eyes and leaned into my father, wanting to go back to that impenetrable darkness.

sixty-five

Althaia

“She’s going back with us.” Michael asserted firmly.

“No.” Damiano replied in his cold tone.

“No? Who do you think you are to make that decision?!” Michael erupted angrily.

“If you don’t keep your voice down, I will kill you.” Damiano’s voice was low and calm but filled with promise as they continued to argue about me.

I wasn’t sure if they were aware I was awake and could hear them. My back was to the door, but I guess it was slightly open as I heard everything they said, arguing about where I should stay.

It made me realize I didn’t have a place I could call home anymore. Even though I had stayed a few weeks in my father’s mansion before, I still didn’t consider it home because for a long time, it wasn’t.

---