Emma's departure was as sudden as it was quiet. One day, she was there, and the next, she was gone. Santiago hadn't heard from her, nor had anyone mentioned her. The photo he had received was the last piece of the puzzle—the last connection to the past he couldn't quite leave behind.
Emma left a note for him, folded neatly and tucked into an old envelope.
"I made a promise to myself. I can't be part of your life anymore. Don't look for me. Stay safe. You and your family deserve it."
Santiago never did go looking for her. In the quiet, hidden corners of Tuscany, life had to move on.
Amara was busy tending to the garden one afternoon when Israel walked up to her. The little girl, who had been learning Italian at a rapid pace, stood tall, her eyes bright.
> "Mamma, guarda!" Israel said, her voice pure with excitement.
Amara paused, wiping her hands on her apron, and looked at her daughter. Israel took a deep breath before speaking a long string of words in perfect Italian:
> "Mamma, grazie per tutto. Sei la persona più forte che conosco. Ti amo tanto. Ti prometto che sarò sempre al tuo fianco."
Amara blinked, speechless for a moment. In that moment, the weight of their new life, their struggles, and the love they shared hit her like a wave.
"You speak better Italian than your father," Amara chuckled, wiping a tear away.
Israel grinned, proud of her accomplishment. "I want to speak just like you, Mamma."
As for Santiago, he couldn't ignore the gnawing feeling that something wasn't quite right. Though he had made peace with his new life, a part of him still missed the work. The cases. The justice.
But it was time to start fresh.
He applied for a job at a local law firm in the city, not as a forensic expert, but as a legal consultant. It was a shift, a way of leaving the past behind without letting it consume him. And though it wasn't forensic work, Santiago's sharp mind quickly proved invaluable. His new colleagues respected him, though they didn't know the full story of who he was or what he had done.
Still, it was a job, and it kept the family afloat.
One night, after dinner, as they sat in the cozy living room of their villa, Amara finally spoke.
"I need to tell you something, Santiago," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "Something I've never told anyone."
Santiago turned to her, the familiar concern in his eyes.
"What is it?"
Amara took a deep breath, her fingers nervously fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. She paused for a long moment before speaking.
"I wasn't just a bystander in all of this. I've done things… things I'm not proud of. I was once part of the very network you brought down. I helped cover up crimes. I… I protected the people who destroyed lives." Her voice broke as she continued. "I had to do it. I didn't have a choice. I was in too deep. But I've changed, Santiago. I've always wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you'd leave."
Santiago's heart sank as he listened. He reached out and took her hand, his thumb brushing over her fingers.
"I don't care about your past, Amara," he said quietly. "I care about the woman you've become. We both have our scars, but we've made it through. Together."
Amara looked up at him, tears welling in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"You don't need to be sorry," Santiago said. "We're not perfect. But we have each other. And that's what matters now."