The words gut me.
I bend over him and press my forehead carefully to his.
“No,” I say. “You lived by sheer stubbornness to tell me.”
His breath shakes.
“That’s what I needed from you. Now, I just need you to get better so I can take you home.”
I straighten.
The man who threatened my family wasn’t the one who took them.
The monster wasn’t across the country.
He was close.
Trusted.
Standing near Amelia with clean hands and patient eyes while he waited for the right moment to steal her.
I turn toward the door.
“Maverick,” Stefano whispers.
I stop.
His eyes meet mine.
Terrified.
Not for himself.
For them.
For the woman who brought warmth into our home.
For the little girl who called him Uncle Steffy, like the name had always belonged to him.
His fingers twitch against the blanket, reaching for me.
I step back to the bed and take his hand carefully.
“Fratello.”
His grip is almost nothing.
A ghost of the strength I know is there.
“Bring them home,” he rasps.
“I will.”
“No.” His eyes sharpen with the little strength he has left. “Listen to me.”
My throat tightens.
“I’m listening.”
