Page 69 of Veil of the Past
She takes a shaky breath, her grip tightening on mine. “Promise?” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
“I promise,” I reply, my voice steady. “I’m not leaving you. Not now, not ever.”
I once again feel the flicker of hope, a small, fragile flame burning in the darkness.
36
ALESSIA
Ilie still in Romiro's bed, staring up at the ceiling, the dim light filtering through the curtains casting soft, uneven shapes across the room. The sheets feel rough against my skin, my body heavy with exhaustion, but my mind is racing. Images flash through my head—darkness, cold metal cutting into my wrists, and the muffled sound of waves crashing against the docks. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block it all out, trying to make sense of what happened, but it’s like my mind is stuck on a loop, replaying every moment, every sound.
Why? Why did this happen to me? What did I do wrong?
I feel a tightness in my chest, a pressure building like a dam about to break. I keep asking myself the same question over and over again, trying to find an answer, but there’s nothing. Just the same cold, empty feeling, the same sense of dread that’s been gnawing at me since they took us. I can still hear the echo of Helen’s voice, her cold, detached laughter, the way she looked at us like we were nothing, like we were just pieces on a chessboard she could move around at will.
A shiver runs through me, and I pull the blanket up higher, trying to find some warmth, some comfort. But there’s none. I also keep seeing Nonna's face, her pale skin, her lifeless eyes staring up at the sky. I blink, trying to push the image away, but it’s there, burned into the back of my eyelids. Why her? Why us?
The questions swirl in my mind, faster and faster, until it feels like I’m drowning in them. My heart starts to race, my breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. Then I hear a sound outside the door—voices, low and urgent, and something crashes to the floor. My body tenses, every muscle tightening like a coil. My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears, and a cold sweat breaks out across my skin.
They’re back. Oh, God. They’re back.
I try to sit up, but the room tilts around me, the walls closing in, and I feel like I can’t breathe. I hear the voices getting louder, more frantic, and I want to scream, to run, but my body won’t move. My mind is spinning, spiraling, and I can’t think, I can’t breathe, I can’t?—
The door bursts open, and I flinch, my hands flying up to cover my head, a scream caught in my throat. I hear a voice, a woman’s voice, soft but insistent, but it’s like I’m underwater, everything muffled and distant. I feel hands on my shoulders, warm, familiar, but I can’t focus, can’t see through the haze of fear clouding my vision.
“Alessia, darling… it’s okay… it’s okay, sweetheart…”
Mom. It’s my mom, but her words don’t reach me. My breaths are coming too fast, too shallow, and my chest feels like it’s being crushed, like there’s a weight pressing down on me, squeezing the air out of my lungs. I hear another voice, deeper, more urgent, and I see a blur of movement in front of me.
“Alessia, listen to me,” Romiro’s voice cuts through the fog, sharp and clear, like a lifeline thrown into the storm. “Look at me, Red. Look at me.”
I try to focus, to find his face, but everything is spinning, and I feel like I’m going to pass out. I hear him again, his voice steady, commanding. “Breathe with me. In for four… hold… out for four. Come on, baby. You can do this. Breathe with me.”
I try to follow his instructions, to focus on his voice, on the rhythm he’s setting, but it’s so hard. My lungs feel tight, my throat constricted, but I force myself to take a breath, counting in my head. One, two, three, four… hold. I feel his hand on mine, warm and steady, and I cling to it like a lifeline, like it’s the only thing keeping me from slipping under.
“In… hold… out,” he repeats, his voice a steady anchor in the storm. “That’s it, just like that. You’re safe, Red. You’re safe.”
I don’t know how long it takes, but slowly, the panic begins to recede, the fog lifting just a little. I can see him now, his face close to mine, his eyes full of worry and something else… something deeper. I take another shaky breath, following his lead, feeling the air fill my lungs, feeling the tension start to ease, just a little.
“There you go,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
I nod, swallowing hard, my throat dry and scratchy. I can still feel the tremors running through my body, but they’re fading, becoming less intense. I hear a soft sound from the doorway, and I turn my head slowly, blinking to clear my vision.
Mamma is here, her face pale, her eyes wide with concern. She’s looking past me, at someone else, and I follow her gaze to see my dad standing in the doorway, his shoulders slumped, his face drawn with guilt.
“Toni,” Mamma hisses, her voice sharp. “I told you this was not the time to fight with him.”
I feel a flicker of confusion, my mind still trying to piece everything together. I look back at Romiro, who’s still holding my hand, his gaze steady and reassuring. He squeezes my fingers gently, his eyes never leaving mine.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, just for me. “You’re safe. They’re not here. It’s just your parents.”
I nod, but the panic is still simmering beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment. Mamma moves closer, her hands coming up to cup my face, her thumbs brushing away the tears I didn’t realize were falling. “Oh, sweetheart,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry…”
I feel a lump rise in my throat, the words tangled up inside me. I want to tell her that it’s okay, that I’m fine, but the truth is, I’m not fine. I’m not okay. I don’t know how to be okay right now. I look up at my dad, standing there with that look of guilt on his face, and I feel a fresh wave of anger, of frustration.
“Why?” I whisper, my voice hoarse. “Why did this happen?”
He flinches, his eyes darting away from mine, and I see my mamma’s face tighten, a mix of anger and pain. She looks back at me, her eyes wet with tears. “We don’t know, darling,” she says softly. “We’re trying to figure it out. But none of this… none of this is your fault. Do you hear me?”
