Giulia is quiet for a moment. “I’m sure they are.”
"Who was he?" I ask. "The man Romeo killed. Who was he?"
"I don't know. But Savannah, Romeo doesn't just kill people randomly. If he did this, there was a reason."
"Does the reason matter?" I can hear the desperation in my voice. "Does it matter why he killed someone when the result is the same? When I'm bringing a child into a world where their father is a murderer?"
"Romeo is trying to protect you?—"
"By becoming a monster?" I'm crying now, and I can't stop. "That phone call two nights ago—he told me he was losing himself. He told me he was becoming empty and cold and ruthless again. And I told him to remember who he is with me. But what if this is who he is? What if the man I fell in love with was just—just a mask, and this is the truth underneath?"
Giulia pulls me close, and I sob against her shoulder.
"He loves you," she says quietly. "I've never seen my brother love anyone the way he loves you. And yes, he's dangerous. Yes, he's capable of terrible things. But he's also capable of being gentle. Of being kind. Of being the man you fell in love with."
"How do I know which one is real?"
"They're both real." She pulls back and looks at me. "That's what you have to understand. He's trying to figure out how to be both without destroying himself or you in the process."
I think about the photos and the blood. "I don't know if I'm strong enough for this," I whisper. "I don't know if I can live in a world where the man I love is capable of—of that."
"Then you need to decide." Giulia's voice is firm, and I can hear the sister coming out, the girl who loves her brother and won’t let anyone hurt him… not even me. "You need to decide if you can accept all of him, or if you need to walk away. But you can't keep existing in this limbo, loving him but resenting what he is."
She's right. I know she's right. But the thought of walking away, of raising this baby alone, of never seeing Romeo again?—
I can't breathe.
I go lie down, and an hour later, I start cramping. Light cramping at first, and then it gets worse. At first, I think it's just stress—just my body reacting to the emotional turmoil of the past few hours. Then it happens again. Stronger this time. Then again, painful enough to make me cry out.
I sit up slowly, and that's when I feel wetness between my legs. I look down and see blood on the sheets.
"No." The word comes out as a whisper. "No, no, no?—"
Another cramp, this one so strong it doubles me over. I cry out, and somewhere in the house I hear footsteps running.
"Giulia!" I scream her name, clutching my stomach. "Giulia, something's wrong!"
She bursts through the door, takes one look at me and the blood, and her face goes white. "Marco!" she shouts. "Marco, we need to go NOW!"
The cramping is constant now, waves of pain that make it hard to think or breathe. I'm barely pregnant. I could easily lose the baby. I could?—
I start to sob, terrified suddenly that I’m going to lose something I wasn’t even sure I wanted. "Giulia, the baby?—"
"I know, I know." She helps me stand, supporting my weight. "We're going to get you to a hospital. You're going to be okay."
Marco appears in the doorway. "Get the car," Giulia orders. "Call ahead to the hospital. And call Romeo?—"
"No." The word comes out stronger than I expected. "Don't call him. Not yet. Not until?—"
Another cramp cuts off my words, and I scream.
"Savannah, he needs to know?—"
"Please." I'm begging now, clutching Giulia's arm. "Please, just—just get me to the hospital first. Make sure the baby is okay. Then call him. I can't—I can't handle him right now. I can't—" I don't finish the sentence because the pain is too intense, too overwhelming.
Marco is already on the phone, barking orders in Italian. The world blurs around me. Pain. Fear. The metallic taste of blood in my mouth from biting my lip. "Stay with me," Giulia is saying, holding my hand. "Stay with me, Savannah. You're going to be okay. The baby is going to be okay."
I think about Romeo, alone in his apartment. I think about the photos Thad sent—the blood, the violence. I think about the choice I made. The world I chose to enter. And I think about the baby inside me, fighting to survive in a body that's breaking down from stress and fear and the weight of impossible decisions.
