~ELENA~

The first thing I notice when I wake up is the silence.

Not the terrifying kind that follows gunshots or screams, but a calm, breathing silence. The kind that exists when nothing bad is happening. When no one is dying.

For a moment, I don’t trust it.

I lie still on the bed, staring at the ceiling, my heart pounding as memories crash into me all at once—blood, screaming, Riccardo collapsing, the sound of the gunshot echoing inside my skull.

I sit up abruptly.

“Riccardo…”

My voice comes out hoarse, barely a whisper.

The door opens immediately.

He’s there.

Standing. Alive.

Bandaged heavily, moving slower than usual, but unmistakably...