78

It had already been days since I last connected with the outside world. Giovanni insisted on keeping me confined within these walls for my own safety, but the isolation gnawed at me relentlessly. Each night, I heard the door click shut as he ventured out into the dark, leaving me to imagine what godforsaken deeds occupied his hours. I knew all too well the streets he roamed were ruthless, yet fear stifled my voice, keeping my questions unasked, my fears unvoiced.

But one night, the weight of silence became unbearable. As he prepared to leave yet again, his figure cloaked in the darkness of our bedroom, something within me snapped.

“Where do you go every night, Giovanni?” My voice, though quiet, cut through the stillness with a sharpness I hadn’t intended.

He paused, his hand on the doorknob. “It’s not your concern, Gabriella. You’re safer not knowing.”

“But I need to know!” I insisted, my voice rising. “I can’t keep sitting here, wondering if you’ll come back, or if one night, it’ll b