Chapter 90
KATYA POV
It had been thirty-one days since I left that infirmary. Thirty-one long, suffocating days since the mansion stopped breathing.
Roo was still asleep — not dead, not awake, just trapped sowhere in between. The doctors called it a coma.
My wrists had healed by now, faint scars hidden beneath my sleeves — silent proof of a night I could barely rember.
Miss Stella had told what happened. She said she found in one of the guest rooms, pale and shaking, blood on the floor and my mind sowhere far away.
I don’t rember all of it. Only flashes. A sharp edge. A blur. A face I hated. And then... nothing.
Nonna had been there when Stella told . She didn’t ask questions or demand explanations. She just sat beside , her wrinkled hand resting gently over mine.
Since that day, Nonna had asked for almost every day. At first, I thought it was a trick — a test to see if I’d slip up.
I tried to keep my distance, but she insisted. Tea in the mornings. Walks in the garden I secretly loved.
Sitting beside her during long, tedious house etings I had no business attending.
Now I was her "little helper," her shadow, her right hand — cara mia this, cara mia that. It should’ve been comforting.
But it wasn’t.
Because every ti she smiled at , I saw him.
And every ti she said I was safe, I wondered what she’d do if she knew the truth — if she knew how badly I still wanted to run.
To escape before he wakes up.
I had tried once.
Just a week ago, I’d made it past the gate and nearly reached the woods before Antonio’s hand clamped around my arm. My heart had stopped, but my mouth hadn’t.
I lied — quickly, desperately — that Nonna had sent for sothing from town.
He hadn’t believed .
Not really.
Now, he watches like a hawk, circling, waiting for a mistake.
And I can feel it — one wrong move and I’m done.
So I move carefully. Speak softly. Smile when Nonna looks my way.
But every night, when the house is quiet and the halls are empty, I still trace the escape routes in my head.
Because sooner or later, Roo will wake up. And when he does, I don’t know if I’ll still be the girl who stayed.
The elevator chid, breaking my thoughts. I stepped out and made my way down the corridor toward Nonna’s room. She’d sent for a few minutes ago — and when Nonna called, you didn’t make her wait.
A soft knock echoed as I stopped outside her door.
"Enter, cara mia," her warm voice floated from inside.
Pushing the door open, I stepped in. Nonna was by the window, sunlight spilling over her silver hair and the embroidery stretched across her lap.
She looked up the second she saw , and her whole face lit up — as if I were soone she’d been waiting for all morning.
"There you are," she said, smiling. "Co, sit. How are you today? Have you eaten?"
"Yes," I nodded, taking the chair beside her. "Miss Stella’s been stuffing with food every chance she gets. Says I work too hard in the kitchen to starve."
Nonna chuckled softly. "Good. You’re too thin. A girl your age should eat properly."
I shrugged, unsure how to reply. Before I could think of anything, she set the embroidery aside and turned to a small wooden box on the table beside her.
"I have sothing for you," she said.
"For ?" I blinked, confused.
"Mm." She lifted the lid and carefully pulled out a dress, soft, delicate fabric the color of morning sunlight.
A yellow sundress, light and airy, with a ribbon that trailed from the waist. "I saw it and thought of you," Nonna said, eyes crinkling. "I would love to see you in it."
For a second, I just stared. It was beautiful, too beautiful for soone like . And as the fabric caught the light, I could almost see it: how it would brighten my pale skin, make my golden eyes glow, and fall softly against my white curls.
"Nonna, I... I don’t know what to say," I murmured, fingers brushing the fabric.
"Say yes," she said gently. "Humor an old woman’s wish."
I hesitated, the fabric trembling between my fingers. It had been so long since anyone had given sothing without expecting sothing in return. Too long.
"Alright," I whispered.
Nonna’s eyes lit up. "There’s a screen over there. Go on, try it."
I slipped behind the dressing screen, heart thudding as I carefully peeled off the plain cotton dress I’d been wearing.
The sundress was softer than I’d expected — light against my skin — and when I tied the ribbon around my waist, it fit as though it had been made for .
I took a steady, nervous breath and stepped out from behind the screen.
Nonna’s gaze found imdiately. For a heartbeat, she said nothing. Then her face lted into the kind of smile people save for soone they truly care about.
"Oh, cara mia..." she breathed. "Look at you."
Heat crept up my neck. I smoothed the fabric over my hips, unsure of what to do with my hands. "It... fits."
"It’s perfect," Nonna said, turning her wheelchair to circle . "The color. It’s as if the sun decided to rest in your eyes. And your hair..." She reached out, brushing a white curl from my shoulder. "You look radiant."
I didn’t know how to answer that. No one had ever called radiant before. Pretty, maybe. But never radiant.
"Thank you," I said softly, because it was all I could manage.
Nonna cupped my cheek gently. "You deserve to feel beautiful, tesoro. Never forget that."
Her words sank deeper than I wanted them to. And as I stood there, wrapped in sunlight I didn’t think I deserved.
A part of wished, just for a second, that this could last.
That I could belong here. That Roo would never wake up and ruin this fragile, stolen happiness.
But the other part, the louder part, whispered the truth.
Because dresses were just fabric. Words were just air. And when Roo woke up, none of this — not the dress, not the kindness, not even Nonna’s warmth — would save .
I needed to escape. Before it was too late.
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