Page 104 of Iron Roses
I stand in the center of the hall. The journal is gone. My hands feel empty.
For the first time, I didn’t see her sister at all.
Only Elaria.
I don’t know what to do with that.
I’ve been mourning Giovanna for so long that it became a constant. A shape I could fold myself into. I knew what I was when I was grieving.
But now—
Now there’s something else rising. Something that doesn’t have Giovanna’s face. Something I didn’t choose.
And it’s not grief. And I don’t know how to want her without betraying everything I buried.
The hallway is empty behind me.
Allegra’s voice hasn’t echoed again. Lorenzo hasn’t followed.
I reach for the study door. The handle turns under my palm. The journal is gone, but my hand still curls as if it’s holding it.
The door shuts behind me with no sound.
Books line the walls. The chair sits at the same angle I left it in. Nothing’s moved, but the room feels different. Lighter in the way something hollow does.
I cross to the panel. The ridge beneath the rivet fits beneath my thumb.
Click. Stone grinds open.
I step inside.
The staircase descends in a tight spiral. The limestone walls close in around me, rough and unfinished.
I keep walking.
My heel brushes the last step. The passage opens.
The ache has changed. It isn’t grief the way it once was. I lower myself to the floor and I feel her almost immediately.
Giovanna sits near me.
Her dress folds around her like mist. Her hair is gathered away from her face. She doesn’t speak right away. Her hand lifts. She rests it gently on my shoulder.
I lean into her. My head touches the curve of her neck.
She strokes my back with her palm.
Her voice is quiet.
“It’s time to let me go.”
I shake my head.
She waits. Her hand keeps moving.
“Elaria needs you,” she says. “If you lose her, you’ll lose that spark in your eyes. She made you happy, you know.”
I keep my head down. Giovanna looks at me, and I feel her watching.
