Emilia's POV:
The ceiling above me wasn't the one I knew.
It wasn't cracked, and it didn't smell like damp wood and old cigarettes.
The sheets weren't thin and rough. They were soft—too soft—and the weight of the blanket felt like it could swallow me whole.
Panic tightened around my chest like a vice.
Where am I?
My breath caught, coming in short, ragged gasps.
I sat up too fast, the room tilting. My head throbbed, the ache behind my eyes sharp and unforgiving. My gaze darted around the unfamiliar space—warm light spilling through the tall windows, thick curtains draped to the side. The walls were painted soft cream, the furniture dark and polished.
Nothing like home.
No. Not home.
That place wasn't home.
But this wasn't either.
I couldn't breathe.
My hands clutched the blankets, fingers twisting in the fabric.
I had to get out.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, my feet brushing against the cool floor. Every muscle in my body screamed, but I barely noticed.
I needed to—
A soft knock at the door made me freeze.
My stomach twisted, bile rising.
"Emilia?"
The voice was quiet. Careful.
Matteo.
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
The door opened slowly, just a crack, and he peeked in. His brown eyes met mine, and something flickered there—concern, warmth, something else I couldn't name.
"Hey, sweetheart." His voice was barely above a whisper, like any louder would break me. "It's just me. Matteo."
I knew that. But my body didn't seem to understand.
"I—" My voice cracked.
Matteo's expression softened even more.
"Easy, baby. You're safe. I promise."
Safe.
The word felt foreign.
"I... I don't know where I am." My voice was thin, small.
Matteo stepped in slowly, hands out where I could see them, like I was a frightened animal that might bolt.
"You're home now," he said gently. "With us. Your brothers."
Home.
I swallowed hard, throat tight.
"I-I didn't mean to sleep so long," I mumbled, fingers still gripping the blanket.
"Oh, sweet girl, don't even worry about that." Matteo's smile was soft, but there was something sad in it too. "Your body needs rest. But it's morning now, and I thought maybe you'd like to join us for breakfast?"
Breakfast.
Food.
My stomach twisted, but not from hunger.
"I'm... I'm not really hungry."
His smile didn't falter.
"That's okay, amore. You don't have to eat much. Just sit with us, yeah? We'd love to have you there."
YOU ARE READING
A Fragile Thread
General FictionEmilia Costello's life has been nothing but pain and darkness since she was taken as a baby. When she is discovered after years of unimaginable abuse, she is reunited with the brothers she never knew she had. The Costello brothers, deeply entrenched...
