The Shape of What Comes Next

The first thing Vera noticed was the silence.

Not the peaceful kind—the kind that came after storms, after gunfire, after decisions that could not be undone. The villa was holding its breath. Even the guards moved differently now, quieter, eyes sharper, hands never far from weapons.

Matteo had changed the air.

Children always did.

He sat at the long dining table that morning, legs swinging slightly, eating slowly, thoughtfully. Gone was the careless rhythm of ...