Page 8 of And Back

"When he woke up," I continue, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat, "he didn’t remember anything—not even our mother. She took him away to give him a new life with better memories, but I had to stay behind as a spy for the Camorra. It was part of the deal to get them out."

"That must have been unbearable," Zoe whispers.

"It was," I admit. "Every day felt like an eternity. But knowing Dante was safe... it gave me the strength to endure." I glance at Zoe. "And having you in my life, Zoe, was the only bright spot in those dark times."

Zoe’s grip on my hands tightens, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Virgilio, no one should have to go through what you did… you deserved so much better than what you got."

I nod slowly, the pain of those years still fresh but somehow lessened by her presence. "Maybe," I murmur, "but now... now I have you."

Zoe’s eyes fall on the scars visible on my arms and neck. “Tell me about these,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

I let out a bitter chuckle, the sound harsh and empty. “These are from the explosion that, ironically enough, saved me.”

She traces one of the scars lightly with her fingertips, her touch gentle yet grounding. “What happened?” she asks softly.

The memories flood back, pulling me into a past that I can never fully escape.

The inside of the remote warehouse on the outskirts of the city is dark and dusty, the faint smell of gasoline clings to the air like a curse.

I’m running through the warehouse, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Every muscle in my body screams for relief, but I can’t stop. Not now. Not when I’m so close to getting out. The bomb is ticking down, each second a death toll in my ears.

Then I hear it—the deafening roar of the explosion behind me. The force of the blast propels me forward, throwing me to the ground like a rag doll. Intense heat sears my skin as flames consume everything around me. My vision blurs from the sheer pain coursing through my body.

I can’t move.

I try to push myself up, but my arms refuse to cooperate. The smoke chokes me with every breath I take. My eyes sting as I struggle to keep them open, desperate to find an escape route amidst the inferno.

Why did it have to come to this?

Images flash through my mind—Dante’s face as he lay in that hospital bed, Zoe’s smile as she talked about her dreams, our mother’s desperate eyes as she pleaded for me to stay strong. Each memory is a dagger to my heart, reminding me of everything I stand to lose.

The pain is excruciating, but it’s nothing compared to the thought of never seeing them again.

I have to survive.

With sheer force of will, I manage to roll onto my side. My hands find purchase on the rough concrete floor, and I drag myself forward inch by agonizing inch. The flames licking at my heels are a painful reminder that time is running out.

Every movement sends waves of agony through me, but I grit my teeth and push on. The exit is close—I can see the faint outline of the door through the haze of smoke and fire.

Just a little further.

My vision starts to tunnel as darkness edges in from all sides. I force myself to focus on that door, on the freedom just beyond my reach.

I can’t give up now.

The smoke fills my lungs, each breath a burning reminder of my failing body. My muscles scream for relief, but I can’t stop. I try to keep crawling away. The heat is unbearable. My vision blurs, and the world around me starts to fade into a haze of smoke and pain.

This is it, I think. This is the end.

A mixture of fear and resignation settles over me. I close my eyes, accepting my fate. Images flash through my mind—Dante’s face, our mother’s desperate eyes.

I’m sorry, I silently apologize to them all.

Darkness begins to overtake me, a heavy shroud pulling me under. But then, through the smoke and flames, I see a figure approaching. At first, it’s just a shadow moving through the inferno, but as it gets closer, the shape becomes clearer.

It’s him—my mother’s bodyguard, the man who saved her.

He doesn’t hesitate as he reaches me.

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