"Tell me about him," she whispers. "Your dangerous man."
A sob catches in my throat. "Mom?—"
"Please. I want to know you're loved."
So I tell her everything—about Dante's rage and his gentleness, how he sees me completely and chooses me anyway, how he makes me feel owned and cherished in the same breath.
"He killed someone tonight," I whisper. "Adrian. He kidnapped me and tried to take me out of the country and Dante... he killed him."
I expect shock, horror, but instead Mom's hand tightens on mine.
"Good." Her voice is barely there. "That's what love does. Protects. Even when it's ugly."
Her breathing gets shallower, each inhale a visible effort.
"I'm scared." My voice breaks. "I don't know how to do this without you."
"You're stronger than you know." Her eyes drift closed. "Always have been."
"Don't go. Please, Mom. I'm not ready."
"Neither am I." A sad smile. "But we don't get to choose."
The machines beep slower, softer.
I hold her hand tighter, press my face into her shoulder—the shoulder that held me through every nightmare, every disappointment, every moment I thought I couldn't survive.
"I love you," I whisper.
"I know." Her voice is fading. "I loved you from the moment I knew you existed. Every choice... was for you."
"I know."
Her breathing changes, slows.
"It's okay," I tell her, even though it's killing me. "You can let go. I'll be okay. I promise."
One more breath.
Two.
Then stillness.
The machines flatline with a long, steady tone that drills into my skull.
"No." I shake her gently. "Mom, please?—"
But she's gone and the door opens. Patricia, a doctor—they rush in, but I already know, can feel the absence where her soul used to be.
"Miss Mancini." The doctor's voice is kind. "I'm so sorry."
I don't move, just stay curled against her cooling body while they turn off the machines, while the awful beeping finally stops.
"Take all the time you need," Patricia says softly.
They leave.
I don't know how long I stay—minutes, hours, time doesn't work anymore.
