As the city settles into a new rhythm, so do we.
But it never quite feels like home.
Even when, one quiet morning, in a hospital room surrounded by our friends, we welcome a new addition to our family.
It’s a boy.
Felix.
The room was filled with joy, laughter, and tears. Hugs are offered by old friends and new ones. Dante’s eyes never left our son’s tiny face. His hands were gentle and steady as he held him for the first time.
There were a thousand unspoken promises in his gaze. That he would protect him. That we would raise him in a world where he could be anything he wanted to be.
But as the excitement slowly faded and the life we had been living began to settle, something else became clear.
Brooklyn wasn’t where we were supposed to be.
It wasn’t because we had to leave. It wasn’t because we hadn’t built something strong here. It wasn’t even because the city was unsafe.
It was because there was somewhere else our hearts called home.
Dante and I, hand in hand, packed our bags and made the journey back to Montecroce.
The very cobblestones beneath our feet seem to welcome us back. The gentle breeze is a loving caress as we walk the familiarstreets. Felix dozes in his sling around my chest as we take it all in.
For a while, it feels like I’m walking into a dream.
We don’t talk much as we make our way up to theCastello di Ferro. There’s no need.
Dante simply squeezes my hand, and I know he feels it too, this sense of finally being free, being able to breathe again.
The Iron Castle looms ahead, the tall, jagged silhouette sharp against the skyline. It’s still as intimidating as ever, but now I look at it with such nostalgic fondness, that it’s hard for my heart not to race at the sight of it.
“We made it,” I whisper.
He smiles back. “We did.”
Evelina doesn’t wait for us to reach the doors of the Iron Castle before she runs toward us, her arms outstretched, her face glowing with that unmistakable joy I haven’t seen in far too long.
All the stress, the endless worry, the loneliness—it all melts away as she draws us into her embrace.
“La miaprincipessa.” Her hands reach for my face, her eyes brimming with tears before they shift to Dante and then to the tiny bundle across my chest.
“Evelina,” I say softly, unstrapping sleeping Felix so that they can greet each other properly. “There’s someone we’d like you to meet.”
“My grandson,” she says, her voice trembling.
She reaches for him, taking him from me with practiced ease, her gaze softening as she gazes down at the baby.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so at peace, sowhole—and I wonder, briefly, if it’s because of the little life we’ve created or if it’s just the joy of having us all back where we belong. Perhaps it’s both.
“Let me have him for a while,” Evelina says, a gentle command in her voice, and though I don’t want to let him go, I can see the hunger in her eyes. Sheneedsthis time, and I know better than to deny the matriarch this.
I nod, stepping back and watching as she cradles him in her arms. Her soft hums fill the air as she speaks to him in Italian, words I can barely catch. She holds him like he’s the most precious thing in the world.
I turn to Dante, and he watches the scene unfold with a small, fond smile, one that I’ve come to love more than I ever thought possible.
Ever since we got off the plane…hell, ever since we made the decision to come back, there’s been something different about him. Something softer, more relaxed. Somethingright.His smile comes easier, his laughter freer.
