She ran until she was breathless, only stopping when she was sure she had put enough distance between herself and her mother. However, reality dawned on her shortly after she slowed down. She realized she had wandered into an alley and soon noticed she was entirely alone. Naive or not, Jessica felt a deep sense of loneliness. This was the first time she had ever been away from her mother. Every memory she had only went back to after she awoke from the accident. She knew nothing—not what danger looked like, nor how to protect herself or avoid it. Her mother had raised her, shielding her from the world's obvious ugliness. Jessica had believed everything was black and white, believed in fairy tales and the prince charming romances she had read in her books. She was no different from a princess stepping out of her tower and touching grass for the first time.
As she strolled further into the area, the poor lighting made it difficult to see her surroundings. Jessica would never recognize trouble even if it stood right in front of her. She had always been high-spirited and optimistic, trusting in the goodness of the world. Even in the darkness, she quickened her pace, hoping to find a perfect spot. Her heart pounded in her chest, a clear warning that whatever she was doing would lead her into trouble, but she ignored her instincts. Jessica had trusted her mother, and now that trust felt like betrayal. All she wanted was a place to sit and cry. She couldn't fully understand why she had said the things she had, but her mother's actions had hurt her deeply.
All those years spent with her mother had left her knowing no one else in the world. However, there was a well-lit bulb illuminating a distant corner of the underground tunnel. Seeing that the noise around her had died down, Jessica assumed the tunnel was empty.
Slowly, she began to move toward that corner, hoping to find a quiet, solitary place. This was her first taste of freedom, and despite everything, she loved it. She relished how her mother wasn't breathing down her neck, constantly reminding her of what she should and shouldn't do. Even though Jessica was a little scared—lost in the middle of nowhere with no idea how she would return—she wanted these few moments to herself, free from the burden of pleasing her mother.
Her steps quickened as she heard the distant hum of car engines above the tunnel.
"Dal momento che hai deciso di diventare una spina al mio fianco," a voice echoed through the void of the tunnel walls. Jessica froze, confused by the language. She didn't understand it.
"Hello?" she called out, hoping someone would hear her. To her kind, innocent heart, Jessica hoped she could help whoever was troubled. She always believed she could provide comfort or companionship to anyone in need. She couldn't distinguish danger, nor did she realize that walking into a dark tunnel alone at night was dangerous in itself.
"Please, capo, it was all a mistake. I couldn't have let them get awa—" Another voice was abruptly cut off.
"Stai zitto!" the first voice demanded. "You don't get to betray the Trinity and live."
"Hello?" Jessica called again, right before the sharp crack of a gunshot echoed through the tunnel. The sound reverberated around her as the men's attention suddenly shifted toward her. Jessica stood there, confused. Before her were five men dressed in black suits, but there was a sixth man, casually dressed in a plain white T-shirt and jeans. In his hand, he held a corner-shot gun.
On the floor lay the lifeless body of a man in his thirties, a bullet wound in his skull, blood smeared across his face. Jessica couldn't comprehend the scene before her; it took her much longer to process what had happened and what her next move should have been.
"Questo non è un buon posto per te, principessa," the casually dressed man said again. Even though Jessica couldn't understand his language, she found his voice strangely captivating. To her, the man looked like the fictional characters from the books she'd spent so much time reading. The way she had immersed herself in the world of fantasy, she now compared this dangerous man to one of those characters—the kind accused of a crime he hadn't committed, misunderstood and unjustly vilified.