"Who?" I whisper.

"Marco Catelli." I close my eyes as that name was once such a big part of my world until he took so much from me.

"Papa. No, not him."

My questions are kept in my head as my father gives me a brief story of what happened.

It has been two hours, one hour after my father has arrived. I stand here, looking at a view I once thought I would be doing with a man I love. It was a wish. Knowing my freedom in this life of mine belongs to me is now no more. Did ...