Now we stand in clusters. Silent. Confused. Terrified.
Dante enters last. Closes the door behind him.
He keeps pointing at his lips.Don't talk. Don't make a sound.
Dmitri appears. He has Aria's arm. She's trembling. Confused. Still wearing her funeral black.
Aria enters and Dmitri leaves again.
Dante looks at me.
His eyes hold mine for a long moment.
And I see it.
The apology. The warning. The knowledge that whatever comes next will change everything.
He's about to say something he doesn't want to say.
"I'm sorry," he whispers. His voice is barely audible. "I'm so sorry for what's about to happen."
My heart pounds against my ribs.
Sophia makes a small sound. A whimper. Giulia's arm tightens around her.
"What I need," Dante continues, his voice low and urgent, "is for everyone to stay completely silent when that door opens again. Not a word. Not a sound. You can talk when it closes. But until then—nothing."
No one speaks.
No one understands.
I look around the room. Bruno's face is hard. Nico's eyes are narrowed. Kristen holds her husband's hand. Antonella's palm rests on her pregnant belly.
We're all waiting.
All terrified.
All completely in the dark.
The door opens.
Dmitri enters first.
And behind him?—
My brain stops working.
My lungs stop working.
Everything stops working.
Because behind Dmitri, walking into the dining room on his own two feet, is Lorenzo Sartori.
Alive.
Not a ghost.
Lorenzo.
