Carmen’s throat tightened.
How the hell were they supposed to get to Matteo with an army standing in their way?
Her heart ached. He was right there—so close. But he was also so far gone.
Matteo sat in his new room, his tiny fingers clutching the edge of the blanket.
The space was grand, beautiful, but it wasn’t home.
A small frown formed on his lips.
He felt… strange.
Like something was missing. Like something wasn’t right.
Ella sat beside him, her movements slow, careful.
“Sweetheart,” she murmured, tucking a curl behind his ear.
Matteo looked up at her, his big brown eyes filled with uncertainty.
“What is it, Mama?” he asked softly.
Ella smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
She hesitated, then let out a gentle sigh.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” she whispered, her voice filled with sorrow.
Matteo’s little hands tightened around the blanket.
Ella reached for him, pulling him onto her lap, stroking his hair.
“Your… old family,” she began carefully, “is coming here tonight.”
Matteo’s heart skipped a beat.
“Papa?” he whispered.
The name felt strange on his tongue.
Like it belonged to someone he used to know.
Ella’s fingers stilled in his hair.
Then, she gave him a sad, pitying look.
“They’re not coming to take you back, my love.”
Matteo blinked up at her.
“What do you mean?”
Ella sighed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.
“They’re coming to hurt you.”
Matteo froze.
His small body went stiff.
“No,” he whispered. “Papa wouldn’t—”
“They would,” Ella interrupted, her voice gentle but firm. “They don’t love you, Rafael. They never did.”
Matteo’s breathing became uneven.
“That’s not true,” he mumbled, but his voice wasn’t as certain as before.
Ella cupped his face, forcing him to look at her.
“Why haven’t they come for you before now?” she asked softly. “Why did they let you suffer?”
Matteo’s mind spun.
Why?
Why did it take them so long?
Where were they when he was scared? When he was alone?
Ella’s lips curled into something softer, sadder.
“Because they don’t care, my love.”
A lump formed in Matteo’s throat.
Everything inside him twisted painfully. He wanted to remember. Wanted to believe. But the memories were fading.
Ella ran her fingers through his curls again, soothing, comforting.
“But it’s alright,” she whispered. “You have me now. And I will never leave you.”
Matteo’s chest felt heavy.
His little hands curled into fists.
And then—
In a barely audible whisper—
“I will never go with them.”
Ella’s smile widened, and she held him closer.
“That’s my good boy.”