Aria sits in the center of us all. Her hands are folded in her lap. Her eyes are fixed on the door to the maternity ward.
She hasn't moved in three hours.
Dante sits beside me, his thigh pressed against mine. He hasn't spoken much since we arrived. But his hand found mine an hour ago and hasn't let go.
The door opens.
Everyone freezes.
Pietro walks through.
He's crying. Tears stream down his face, cutting tracks through the exhaustion. His scrubs are wrinkled. His hair is a mess.
And in his arms, wrapped in a pink blanket, is the smallest human I've ever seen.
"It's a girl," Pietro says. His voice cracks. "We have a daughter."
Aria is on her feet before anyone else moves. She crosses the room in three steps, her hands reaching for the bundle in Pietro's arms.
"My granddaughter." Her voice breaks on the word. "My first grandchild."
Pietro carefully transfers the baby into Aria's arms. The movement is gentle. Reverent.
Aria looks down at the tiny face. Her whole body seems to glow.
"She's perfect," Aria whispers. "Absolutely perfect."
I watch Aria's face transform. The grief I've seen etched into her features since I arrived at the compound all of it melts away.
In this moment, there is only joy.
Sophia rises and moves to Aria's side. Lorenzo follows, his hand on Sophia's back. Bruno pushes off the wall and joins them, Antonella at his side.
They gather around the baby like planets orbiting a sun.
"What's her name?" Sophia asks.
Pietro wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "Isabella. Isabella Rose Sartori."
"Isabella," Aria repeats. She traces a finger down the baby's cheek. "Hello, little one. I'm your nonna."
The baby makes a small sound. A tiny mewl that barely qualifies as a cry.
Aria laughs. The sound is bright. Pure.
I've never heard her laugh like that.
Dante's hand tightens around mine. I look at him. His eyes are fixed on the scene in front of us. On his family gathered around a new life.
"She's beautiful," I say.
"She is."
I think about everything Dante told me. The stories that spilled out during our drive here. The history of this family—the violence, the betrayal, the love that somehow survived it all.
They survived.
More than that—they're happy.
