*Olivia*
I was strolling down the streets of Naples, Elio strapped to my chest and Gio at my side. In unison, both of my boys grinned at me. Then, a horde of black-shrouded figures swarmed us. I spun around a few times, and when they disappeared, I stood alone in the Italian street. I fell to my knees as a scream tore out of my throat. I’d lost everything. Again.
***
I shot bolt upright in bed. In bed. I sat in my bedroom, the late morning sunlight streaming in through the windows.
“Mama?” a small voice asked.
All the air exploded out of my chest in a single sigh of relief, and I pounced on my son. He snuggled into my chest, warm and sleepy, and wound a sticky hand into my hair. I happily let him do it. I always would. I couldn’t refuse him another thing.
Tears gathered in my eyes. We’d almost lost him. I never wanted to feel fear or pain like that again.
