Page 66 of Veil of the Past
She hesitates, her eyes flicking to me, and I nod, gently nudging her forward. “Go,” I whisper. “It’s okay.”
She takes a tentative step, then another, until she reaches him. Emiliano wraps one arm around her, pulling her into the hug with Valentina, and Mara collapses against him, her small frame shaking with quiet sobs. I can hear her murmuring, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” over and over again, and my heart breaks a little more.
The door opens again, and this time, it’s Romiro. His eyes find mine immediately, and I see the relief, the worry, the fear still etched on his face. He crosses the room in three long strides and pulls me into his arms, holding me so tight I can barely breathe, but I don’t care. I bury my face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent, feeling the steady beat of his heart against my cheek.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve got you, Red. You’re safe now.”
I nod against his chest, my tears finally spilling over, soaking into his shirt. “I was so scared,” I admit, my voice a broken whisper. “I thought… I thought you’d never find us.”
He pulls back just enough to look me in the eyes, his hands cupping my face. “I’ll always find you.” he says fiercely. “I’ll never let that happen. I promise you.”
I nod again, a sob escaping my lips, and he pulls me back against him, his arms like a fortress around me, keeping the world at bay.
Nicolo steps into the doorway, his eyes scanning the room, his face unreadable. He lingers for a moment, his gaze flicking to Mara, watching her for a long, silent moment. His jaw tightens, and then he looks away, his voice rough when he speaks. “I’m heading out,” he says. “We’ve got work to do.”
Romiro gives him a nod, still holding me close. “Be careful,” he says to him, his voice heavy with meaning.
Nicolo’s lips twitch into something that’s almost a smile, but not quite. “Always,” he replies, and then he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him.
The room is quiet again, the air thick with emotion, with the weight of what we’ve just been through. But for the first time since being kidnapped, I feel a flicker of hope, a small spark of light in the darkness. We’re not out of this yet, not by a long shot, but we’re together.
34
ROMIRO
“We called Callahan,” I say, my voice calm but firm, trying to cut through the tension that’s thickening the air around us. “He’s already on his way. Just let him take a look.”
Emiliano agrees, his voice a low rumble. “Callahan’s good. The best.”
I nod, turning my attention back to the girls—Mara, Valentina, and Alessia. Each of them wears the look of someone lost in a storm, their expressions a mix of shock, fear, and something deeper, darker. I feel a knot tightening in my chest as I watch them, the helplessness gnawing at me like a wild animal trapped in a cage.
Mara’s eyes are wide, darting around the room like she’s looking for a way out, her breaths coming in short, quick bursts. She’s shaking, a slight tremor running through her body, her hands clenched into tight fists. Valentina, on the other hand, is a different story altogether. She’s sitting still, too still, her back pressed against the wall, her knees pulled to her chest. Her eyes are fixed on a spot in front of her, unblinking, unseeing. It’s like she’s retreated somewhere deep inside herself, somewhere none of us can reach.
But it’s Alessia that makes my heart ache the most. She’s trying so damn hard to keep it together, but I can see the cracks, the way her eyes are glassy with unshed tears, the way her shoulders tremble, even though she’s trying to hold herself steady. I move to her side, reaching out to take her hand, feeling the coldness of her fingers against my palm.
“Hey,” I murmur, my voice low, just for her. “Callahan’s on his way. He’s going to check you over, make sure you’re alright.”
She nods, but her gaze is distant, like she’s not really seeing me. There’s a haunted look in her eyes, something that twists a knife in my gut. I squeeze her hand, trying to give her some of my strength, trying to ground her here with me. “You’re safe now,” I say, my voice firmer. “I’m right here.”
Emiliano’s voice cuts through the tension, pulling me back. “Callahan’s about fifteen minutes out,” he says, his tone clipped, professional. “He’ll do a thorough check.”
“Good,” I reply, still holding Alessia’s hand. “The sooner, the better.”
We wait in heavy silence, every second dragging out longer than the last. I keep my eyes on Alessia, watching every flicker of emotion on her face, every tremble of her lips. She’s holding it together, but barely, and I don’t know how to help her, how to make this better. The helplessness claws at me, a cold, biting ache that settles deep in my bones.
When there’s a knock on the door, I feel a wave of relief, even if it’s just a small one. Emiliano moves to answer it, letting Callahan in. He’s tall, with a slim figure, and a face carved from stone, his eyes sharp, always assessing. He nods at us, his black bag in hand, his expression unreadable.
“Callahan,” I greet, stepping back to give him space.
He nods back, his voice even. “Let’s get started. Who first?”
“Mara,” I say, nodding towards her. She looks like she’s about to bolt, her eyes wide and wild, like a cornered animal.
Callahan nods, moving over to her with a calm, measured pace. He talks softly, his tone soothing, explaining what he’s going to do, trying to put her at ease. I watch as he checks her over, his hands moving with that careful precision that comes from years of practice.
Emiliano stays close to Valentina, his hand on her shoulder, his face etched with worry. He’s always been the protector, the steady one, but I can see the fear in his eyes, the way he’s holding on to her like she might slip away at any moment. Callahan moves on to Valentina next, going through the same routine, his voice a low, calming murmur.
And then it’s Alessia’s turn. My heart beats a little faster as he kneels in front of her. “Alessia,” he says softly, his tone gentle but firm. “I’m going to check you over, alright? Just relax. I’ll be gentle.”
