Rosalia — POV
It had been two days since we arrived at the safe base.
Two days since we moved into this villa.
Two days—just forty-eight hours—and yet somehow, these short moments had been better than every year I had lived before. Better than the twenty-something years filled with heaviness, coldness, and a suffocating silence that clung to me like a second skin. I kept turning that realization over in my mind, again and again, as if afraid it would slip away if I didn't examine it from every angle.
I mean… in that world, in that house, with that family… I never felt the peace and warmth I feel now. Not even for a second. Not even accidentally. Life back there had always been a bleak corridor that stretched endlessly, without a single open window to let in the smallest breath of comfort.
Isn't that ridiculous?
