SOPHIA'S POV

Six months later.

The morning sun over the rolling green hills of Tuscany was warm and golden, and the air smelled of wild lavender and sweet earth. Birds sang in the old olive trees, and a soft wind moved through the tall grass like a hand smoothing a blanket.

Our new home was a quiet stone house built high on a hillside that looked down on a small Italian village. There were no iron gates, no armored cameras, and no hidden escape tunnels cut into the rock. There were only open wooden windows, blue skies, and the gentle sound of church bells ringing softly down in the valley....