We landed just after dawn. Milan was still quiet, its streets washed with early gold and the low hum of a city not yet fully awake. The car that met us at the terminal had tinted windows and no branded placard, just a driver who knew our names and spoke little English. Claudia had arranged everything in advance. She handed me the itinerary without commentary, as if even reading it aloud might disrupt the fragile steadiness I had managed to build.

I watched the rooftops blur past as we moved ...