The hum of the engine filled the heavy silence in the car as we drove toward the seaside warehouse. With every bump on the road, I held my son closer to me. His tiny head rested against my chest, his soft breathing soothing the overwhelming anxiety that clung to me.
Mila, seated beside me, cast frequent glances at the baby, her expression both tender and protective. She had clearly grown attached to him. At one point, she gently adjusted the blanket wrapped around him, making sure he stayed warm. The gesture, so simple yet sincere, touched me more than I wanted to admit.
Up front, Luca drove in silence, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. Isabella, sitting next to him, stared blankly ahead, her face tense. I could almost feel the nervous energy radiating from her brother. Even though he was trying to stay calm, his strained features betrayed a very real fear. This meeting would decide his fate.