THIRD PERSON

As Riccardo and Josephine left the building, they both exhaled in relief, a weight momentarily lifted from their shoulders. "He's really good," Riccardo remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice, and Josephine smiled.

"Isn't he? It's just... sometimes it annoys me how he seems to know me better than I know myself," she admitted, a mix of appreciation and frustration dancing in her eyes.

"Exactly! It's like he can read your mind." He took his hat from his jacket pocket and placed it on her head. "When are you going to start dressing appropriately?"

She chuckled, but the laughter faded quickly as the thought of returning home settled over her like a heavy cloud. "Don't get me wrong, but I'm not ready to go home yet," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Riccardo looked down at her, his expression softening with understanding. He understood why she felt like that. Home felt like a cage right now. "We don't have to go straight home. Is there anything you'd like to do instead?"

Josephine felt a surge of warmth at his sincerity. If he was trying so hard, then maybe she could too. "Maybe not what I want, but we could pick up Matteo. I can show you how I really came into your family," she suggested, her heart racing at the thought of sharing more of herself.

His curiosity piqued, Riccardo quickly pulled out his phone and called Matteo, who answered almost instantly, as if he'd been waiting for this call. "We're picking you up."

"Okay," Matteo replied, and Josephine found it intriguing how he trusted Riccardo so completely. She would have had a thousand questions swirling in her mind before agreeing.

"You two are really close, huh?" she asked as they walked to the car, a hint of wistfulness in her tone. "I always wanted a sister, but Mom wasn't really on board with that."

"I think what brought us closer was the fact that the other three were always so much older than me. I could play a lot more with Matteo, and whether it was kindergarten or school, he was always by my side. It's kind of like Domenico and Vito." Riccardo's voice softened with nostalgia, a momentary smile breaking through before he shook himself back to reality. "Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer if it brings up anything uncomfortable."

Josephine looked at him cautiously, her heart beating a little faster. "What is it?"

"Why were there so many dresses in that package?"

A wave of discomfort washed over her as she crossed her arms, hiding her hands. "He thought I looked pretty in dresses. I wasn't allowed to wear anything else. 'His doll,' he called me." The bitterness seeped into her voice, heavy with the pain of her past. "That's all I was to him."

She didn't need to explain him who she meant with 'him'. Riccardo wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close for a moment. He felt helpless, knowing that no words could change what she had endured. "I'm so sorry," he murmured, his voice low and sincere, wishing he could take away her pain.

Josephine leaned into him, grateful for the warmth of his embrace, though she avoided his gaze. "Yeah, me too," she replied, her voice thick with emotion.

It took a little longer than ten minutes to pick up Matteo, but that didn't seem to bother him. When Riccardo stopped in front of him, Matteo climbed into the back without hesitation, handing each of them a shake that Maria had prepared. He also brought muffins, though they both knew Riccardo hated anyone eating in his car. "Where are we going?" Matteo asked as he buckled his seatbelt, excitement flickering in his eyes.

"Josie wanted to show us something. So, where do we need to go?" Riccardo's tone was neutral, but he glanced at Josephine, wanting to make sure she was okay.

Josephine took a quick sip from her cup, gathering her thoughts. "Back into the city. Do you know the old industrial area?" Both boys nodded, albeit with a hint of confusion. "That's where we're headed. Did you tell Vito we're still out?"

Matteo nodded. "Yeah, he said we need to be careful. Domenico suggested to tie you up if necessary. I'm not sure if he was joking." His playful tone shifted as he looked at her. "How was therapy?"

Josephine hesitated, trying to find the right words. At least she got to leave the house, which felt like a small victory. "It was good. Riccardo and I were able to talk about yesterday," she said, her voice gaining strength.

"That's nice," Matteo replied, but there was a hesitance in his tone. "But I would have thought there was something more important you should be discussing."

"Didn't you talk about that?" Riccardo interjected, glancing at her with concern. She shrugged, her expression unreadable. "Why not?" His tone was sharper than he intended.

"Because," she took a deep breath. "I didn't want to, and he respected that." She emphasized the last part, hoping they would pick up on her subtle plea for understanding.

As expected, they didn't. "But you have to talk about it!" Matteo exclaimed, concern etched across his features.

"And I will, someday. But right now, I just can't." Her voice trembled slightly, as the weight of her emotions hung heavily in the air. She knew it would take time to unpack everything, and for now, she just needed to breathe.

This time, both of them understood her hint, and they fell silent for the rest of the drive. It wasn't until Riccardo parked the car in front of the area that they spoke again. "What are we doing here?"

Josephine stepped out, the cold air wrapping around her like a blanket, and the crunch of snow beneath her boots filled the silence. "As I said, I wanted to show you why I ended up with you. Are you coming?" She started walking, her breath visible in the frosty air. The two brothers exchanged a brief, uncertain glance but ultimately followed her toward a dilapidated warehouse that looked like it could collapse at any moment. "Watch your step; there might be needles around here," she warned, a hint of caution in her voice.

Uneasily, they watched as Josephine approached a door on the side, its paint peeling and hinges rusted. She paused, glancing back at them, her expression a mix of determination and vulnerability. "This place- it's part of my story," she said, her voice steady but laced with emotion. Matteo felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He wanted to reach out, to reassure her, but he sensed the weight of the moment. Riccardo, standing beside him, looked intrigued but also concerned, unsure of what to expect. Josephine took a deep breath and pushed the door open, the creaking sound echoing in the stillness. Inside, the dim light revealed old machinery and forgotten memories. Dust motes danced in the air, and a chill crept in, but Josephine stepped inside, her resolve unwavering."This is where I used to come," she said softly, her eyes scanning the interior. "When I had no other place to sleep." Her voice was barely above a whisper, as if she were afraid of disturbing the ghosts of her past.

Riccardo and Matteo exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from curiosity to concern. They followed her inside, the air thick with unspoken stories and lingering shadows. "Why did you bring us here?" Matteo asked, his voice gentle but probing.

Josephine turned to face them, a mixture of fear and courage in her gaze. "Because I want you to understand. I want you to see where I've come from."

As she spoke, Riccardo felt a rush of empathy. He could see the strength it took for her to confront this part of her life, and he admired her for it. "You don't have to if you're not ready," he said softly, wanting her to feel safe.

But she shook her head, determination igniting in her eyes. "No, I need to. So you can understand." She stepped further into the warehouse, gesturing for them to follow. "I need you to understand." She smiled.

Matteo nodded, a reassuring smile breaking through his initial unease. "Lead the way."

Together, they ventured deeper into the space, ready to face whatever memories lay hidden within the walls. The warehouse stood as a hulking relic of a bygone era, its weathered exterior covered in peeling paint and streaks of rust. Once a vibrant hub of activity, it now loomed in eerie silence, its large, broken windows offering only glimpses of the pale sky outside. Inside, the air was thick with dust, which caught the sparse light filtering through the cracks. Old machinery lay scattered about, half-buried under layers of grime, their once-bright colors now faded and dulled. Heavy metal beams crisscrossed overhead, casting long shadows that seemed to dance along the cracked concrete floor.In the far corner, a pile of forgotten crates and rusted tools hinted at the warehouse's storied past. The sound of their footsteps echoed softly, a reminder of the emptiness that enveloped the space. Cobwebs hung like delicate lace from the corners, swaying gently with the slightest draft. The smell of damp wood and old metal lingered, mingling with the cold air that seeped in through the gaps.As Josephine stepped further inside, her movements stirred up small clouds of dust, creating a hazy atmosphere. It was a space of secrets, a haunting reminder of where she had come from, and now, a canvas for her journey forward.

"Well, it was raining, and I was seeking shelter for the night when I heard a noise in the hall..." Josephine led them to the small chamber where she had intended to sleep, her voice steady but laced with emotion as she recounted the events. She described how she had first heard Domenico's voice, the way it had sent a chill down her spine, and how she had felt the urgent need to flee from him.

As she guided Riccardo and Matteo along the path she had taken to escape, the memories flooded back, vivid and almost overwhelming. She navigated through the maze of walls and crumbling buildings, her heart racing as she reached the very spot where Domenico had confronted her, brandishing a weapon and a menacing glare. The water in the pit had now turned to ice, reflecting the dim light in a haunting shimmer.

Riccardo and Matteo listened in stunned silence, completely absorbed in her story. Not once did they interrupt her; the shock of her words held them captive. They could see the pain etched on her face, the way her eyes glossed over with unshed tears, revealing the deep scars left by her past, not only from her foster father. Josephine remained unaware of their intense focus, lost in the labyrinth of her memories. She felt as if she were reliving those moments from a life that felt distant, almost as if it belonged to someone else. The fear, the adrenaline, and the desperate longing to escape wrapped around her like a heavy shroud. How she thought she would die. How she wished she would die and how their brothers had saved her.

With every step, she unearthed pieces of herself, confronting the ghosts that lingered in the shadows of the warehouse. The cold air seemed to thicken as she spoke, each word a fragile thread connecting her past to the present. Riccardo and Matteo often exchanged glances, their hearts aching at the pain etched on her face. They stood as silent witnesses to her struggle, emotions swirling within them—anger, sadness, and an overwhelming desire to protect her. In that moment, they began to grasp the depth of what she had endured, feeling a swell of gratitude for the life their brothers had provided them. It was a stark contrast to the darkness Josephine had faced, and a profound realization settled in: they were lucky, so incredibly lucky. And now they began to understand.