Chapter 23 – Back to Where It Began

Florence hadn't changed.

The air still carried that warm mix of roasted espresso, cobblestone dust, and faint cigarette smoke. Tourists crowded the piazzas, street performers sang old ballads, and Vespas darted through the narrow roads.

But for Maya, it felt like walking through a dream she no longer trusted.

Every street corner had a shadow. Every face, a question mark.

Liam squeezed her hand as they stepped out of the cab. "We'll take it slow."

She nodded. "I just… need to see the alley again."

He hesitated, then agreed

The alley hadn't changed either.

It was still narrow, still hidden between two wine shops with faded red doors. Still cold, even in the heat of the day.

Maya stood in the middle of it, her eyes scanning the walls, the windows above, the spot where the girl had been—Elisa, though she hadn't known her name then.

Her knees nearly buckled.

Liam steadied her. "You okay?"

"No," she whispered. "But I need to be."

She knelt and placed her fingers where Elisa's phone had landed—where the blood had pooled. The stone was clean now, scrubbed of memory. But the weight of it lingered.

"She wanted me to find something," Maya said. "This is where it started, but not where it ends."

Liam looked around. "She was running from something. Or someone."

"Her brother."

"Maybe. But I don't think he's the only one."

That night, they checked into a small boutique hotel tucked into a quiet side street. Maya couldn't sleep. The room was too quiet, the shadows too loud.

At midnight, her phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: Welcome back. You're late.

She stared at the screen, heart thudding.

Liam sat up. "What is it?"

She showed him the message.

His jaw clenched. "They know we're here."

Before she could respond, another message arrived.

Unknown Number: Room 12. Come alone. Bring the phone.

They were in Room 17.

Five doors down.

Liam grabbed his hoodie and moved toward the door, but Maya stopped him. "No."

"Maya—"

"If I don't go, they won't stop."

She turned the phone over in her hand. "I'll leave it on speaker. You'll hear everything."

He looked torn, but nodded. "I'll be right outside the door."

Maya walked the dim hallway, the floorboards creaking under her bare feet.

Room 12's door was slightly ajar.

She took a breath, pushed it open—and froze.

The lights were dim. A single lamp glowed in the corner. Sitting at the edge of the bed was a woman.

Young. Pale. Familiar.

"Elisa?" Maya whispered.

The woman looked up.

"No," she said. "I'm Lucia. Elisa's cousin."

Maya stepped inside slowly. "Why are you here?"

Lucia's eyes were rimmed in red. "Because Elisa can't be."

She reached into her bag and pulled out a small voice recorder. "She left this with me. Said if anything happened, I was to wait for you."

Maya took the device, fingers trembling.

Lucia whispered, "You were her last hope."

Back in Room 17, Maya and Liam sat side by side on the bed, the recorder between them.

Maya pressed play.

 "If you're hearing this, it means I failed. I couldn't stay silent anymore. Maya, I know you don't remember me, but we met. Briefly. Years ago. You were at an art show in Milan. I was just a volunteer then, but… I saw what happened. I saw the man who followed you. I followed him, too. That's how I ended up in the alley that night. I wasn't running from you. I was running to you."

The recording crackled, then continued.

 "My brother doesn't know everything. He thinks I got in too deep with people I shouldn't have. But the truth is, I was protecting you. Someone else was involved. Someone who still is. Someone you trust."

The recording ended.

Liam stared at the wall. "Someone we trust?"

Maya shook her head. "It doesn't make sense. Everyone we trust is back home."

Or were they?

Because in that moment, a thought struck her like lightning.

Serrano.

Detective Serrano had known things too quickly. Had asked too few questions. Had taken too much interest.

And he'd known they were coming to Florence.

She picked up her phone.

Another message was already waiting.

Unknown Number: It was never about Elisa. It was about what you saw and didn't know you saw. Time to open your eyes.