Page 42 of Never Quite Gone

His paint-stained fingers threaded through mine through the iron bars. “I wish I understood why this feels like goodbye. Like we've said goodbye before.”

“No goodbyes,” I promised fiercely, though my heart was breaking. “I'll find you. I'll always find you.”

But we both knew what was coming. The Church's judgment had been decided before the trial even began. Valentino watched from the shadows as they pronounced sentence, his face a mask of grief he didn't seem to understand.

The end, when it came, was both swift and eternal. They took him at dawn, while Florence's bells sang bronze hymns to the rising sun. I wasn't allowed to be there, but I felt the moment he was gone – felt it like my own heart being torn from my chest.

Valentino found me in my palazzo afterwards, his presence both unwelcome and somehow necessary. “You don't understand,” he said softly. “I had to. The pattern must be maintained, or something worse...”

But he couldn't finish the thought, couldn't explain what drove him to destroy what he didn't fully comprehend. His hands shook as he reached for explanation he couldn't quite grasp.

I looked at him – really looked at him – and saw the weight of centuries pressing behind his eyes. “You remember, don't you? Fragments. Pieces. Enough to know you've done this before, but not enough to know why.”

He flinched as if struck. “The dreams... the memories that can't be memories... I thought I was protecting...”

“You were wrong,” I said simply. “You've always been wrong. And you'll always be wrong, until you remember enough to break the pattern instead of maintaining it.”

I left him there, surrounded by wealth that meant nothing without Elia's paint-stained hands to give it warmth. Florence's golden light turned to shadow as I walked empty streets, each step taking me further from the love we'd barely had time to reclaim.

But I would find him again. I would always find him again.

Even if it took a thousand lifetimes to break this pattern. Even if I had to search through centuries to bring him home.

In his cell, they found the walls covered with our story – angels wearing my face, saints with his hands, love stronger than time itselfcarved into stone with desperate devotion. Valentino ordered the cell sealed, but couldn't bring himself to have the drawings destroyed.

Some loves, after all, refuse to be erased.

Even if their ending is written in shadow and separation.

Even if the pattern holds for now.

Even if goodbye feels like forever.

Until next time, beloved.

Until next life.

Until I find you again.

CHAPTER 14

Lost and Found

“Multiple teams incoming,” Sofia called as I reached the trauma bay. “First ambulance, two minutes out.”

The boy arrived in a chaos of sirens and shouting, paramedics rattling off stats that painted an increasingly desperate picture. Dark curls peeked out from the emergency blanket, Spider-Man pajamas visible where it had slipped. His small hand found mine as we transferred him to the trauma table, fingers ice-cold against my palm.

“Hey buddy,” I said, keeping my voice steady as we worked. “I'm Dr. Monroe. We're going to take good care of you, okay?”

His eyes flickered open briefly – beautiful brown eyes full of complete trust. “Tommy,” he whispered. “My name's Tommy.”

“Nice to meet you, Tommy. Can you squeeze my hand for me?”

The weak pressure of his fingers sent warning signals through my professional awareness. Too weak, too slow, but still fighting. Still here.

We moved with desperate efficiency, my team anticipating orders before I had to voice them. Sofia handled the parents – I caught glimpses of their terror-white faces through the traumaroom windows, heard fragments of her gentle explanations as we worked.

“Type and cross four units,” I ordered, noting Tommy's falling pressure. “Get me the ultrasound. Where's my surgical consult?”

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