Page 112 of Of Lies and Shadows

She nods sleepily, trusting me in that absolute way only a child can.

As I walk down the hall, I pause at Alessio’s door. He’s asleep, curled into a ball, clutching one of Francesca’s scarves like it’s a lifeline.

My heart cracks open again.

I grab my keys and my jacket, and I head back to the hospital, back to the sterile corridor where the only woman I’ve ever loved still fights to return.

When I step into her room, Bruno nods and leaves us. He’ll never know how much I appreciate this.

I take her hand, press my lips to her fingers, and settle into the chair like I’ve done every night since she slippedaway from me.

“I kept my promise,” I whisper. “I came back.” My voice trembles, but my grip never loosens. “I’m still here, amore. I’m not going anywhere.”

And this time, I swear I feel the faintest twitch in her fingers.

Hope flares.

“Francesca?”

They twitch again, and I know she’s finally coming back to me.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Francesca

Waking up is hard, like swimming to the surface of dark, thick water with lungs that won’t quite fill.

There’s a dull throbbing in my side, a deep ache that feels like it’s been carved into my bones, and my limbs are heavy, too heavy to lift, too tired to move.

My eyelids flutter open slowly, and the harsh, sterile light stabs into my skull. The scent hits me next—antiseptic, too clean, toosharp. Machines beeping steadily in rhythm with something… my heart, maybe. A tube in my nose. My mouth is dry.

A hospital? Why am I?—

Alessio!

Panic hits like a lightning bolt, sharp and all-consuming. My chest tightens, and I try to sit up, only for pain to lance through me like a spear. The monitor beside me wails, the beeping speeding into chaos, and I hear footsteps, a voice, the scraping of a chair?—

Suddenly he’s there… Dante, holding my face gently between his hands, his eyes frantic and shining with something that looks like relief and absolute devastation all at once.

“You’re okay, amore. I’m here,” he whispers, his voice breaking on the words. “Oh, thank God. Welcome back.”

“Alessio?” My voice is hoarse, barely a breath. “Alessio…”

He doesn’t even blink. “He’s fine,” Dante says, kissing my forehead like it’s the most sacred thing he’s ever touched. “He’s okay. Because of you. You saved him, Francesca.”

I close my eyes, a tear sliding down the side of my face.

“He’s okay?” I repeat, still needing to hear it again, needing it to be real.

Dante nods fiercely, resting his forehead against mine. “Yes. He’s okay. Thanks to my brave, completely unhinged wife.”

My lips twitch. It hurts, everything hurts, but he’s alive, and I’m still here. So it means that we won.

I try to speak again, but he hushes me, brushing my hairback with shaking hands.

“You’ve been out for days,” he murmurs. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“I was scared too,” I whisper. “He was going to kill him.”

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