A Fragile Thread

Chapter 8: First Light

Tiny bites. Small enough not to feel like anything.

"That's perfect, sweetheart," Matteo murmured so only I could hear.

My stomach twisted painfully.

I didn't deserve praise for something so small.

My grip on the toast tightened.

I could feel them watching me, though none of them stared in a way that made me feel cornered. It was softer than that—quieter.

Still, it made my skin prickle.

"You did good, stellina."(little star)

The voice was low, almost hesitant. I glanced up, startled, and found Luca watching me from the head of the table. His tone was softer than I thought he was capable of.

I dropped my gaze back to the plate, my face burning.

"Yeah," Raffaele chimed in, kicking his chair back slightly. His grin was softer than usual. "That's more than we thought you'd eat. Proud of you, piccolina."(little one)

I swallowed hard.

"I... it's just toast," I mumbled.

Matteo leaned in slightly, voice like silk. "To you, maybe. But to us? It's brave, amore."(love)

My chest tightened.

I wasn't brave.

I was terrified.

The scrape of a fork startled me, and I flinched. Nico froze mid-movement, his hand still gripping his fork. His face tightened like he was mad—at himself.

"Sorry," he muttered, quieter than I thought Nico could be.

I shook my head, forcing my muscles to unclench.

Why were they like this?

Tiptoeing around me like I was glass.

Because I was.

I hadn't even noticed my breathing had sped up until Matteo's hand brushed lightly against my wrist—a barely-there touch, enough to ground me but not overwhelm.

"Breathe, tesoro. You're safe."

Safe.

That word again.

I let out a shaky breath and picked at the toast, more out of something to do than hunger.

Raffaele leaned forward, chin in his hand. "You want something else? We got fruit. Or maybe—"

"I'm fine."

"Okay. No pressure, piccolina."(little one)

A heavy silence fell, not awkward, but weighted.

Then Luca cleared his throat. "We've got a quiet day today. No pressure to do anything, but... if you feel up to it, maybe we could show you around the house."

My eyes darted up, searching his face for a catch.

There wasn't one.

"I... I don't know."

"That's alright." Matteo smiled softly. "You decide. We're not going anywhere."

Nico finally spoke up, his voice rough.

"You don't have to be scared of us. We're not... him."

The room went still.

I stiffened, heart pounding.

I hated how that word made my throat close up.

Matteo shot Nico a sharp glance but didn't correct him.

Nico leaned back, eyes dark but calm. "Just saying."

Luca set his coffee down slowly, voice low and even.

"Nico's right. We're not here to tell you what to do. You're not a prisoner, Emilia."

My chest tightened.

"You say that, but..." I stopped, biting the inside of my cheek.

Matteo leaned forward, arms folded on the table.

"But?" he urged gently.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

"But I don't know what to do with this."

The words tumbled out before I could stop them.

"This house. You. All of this. It's too much."

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then Luca, steady as stone, spoke softly.

"It's okay not to know, stellina."

Raffaele leaned back with a sigh. "Yeah, we don't expect you to just... be fine. You've been through hell."

Matteo's hand didn't leave the table, but his presence was steady beside me.

"And you don't have to figure it out today. Or tomorrow."

Nico made a rough noise in his throat. "Or ever. If you wanna sit here and stare at toast all day, fine. Just... don't hurt yourself doing it."

That startled me.

My eyes snapped to him, but Nico wasn't looking at me. He stared down at his plate like he hated it.

"That's all we ask," Luca said quietly.

My throat ached, but I gave the smallest nod.

They all relaxed, even if just a little.

Matteo smiled again, eyes soft.

"Bene, amore. That's all we need."(Good, love)

I wasn't used to this.

Kind words felt heavier than the toast in my hand.

I set it down carefully, my stomach churning.

"That's okay too, piccolina," Raffaele said softly. "Maybe next time."

Only I knew there wouldn't be a next time. I knew this kindness would end someday. I didn't deserve this.