The days after the dinner were filled with small victories. Alessia went for a walk in the park with Matteo and Paolo, though she kept close to the edges, where she could find comfort in the familiarity of home. It wasn't easy, but she was trying. She was allowing herself to accept that healing wasn't linear—it was messy and full of setbacks, but it was still progress.

Giovanni continued to support her, but now, he did so with a quieter understanding. He knew he didn't need to fix everything, just to be there. The pressure to be her saviour had been replaced by the simple desire to love her as she was—seizures and all.

Her brothers remained a constant source of support, and Alessia began to feel that her life, though different, wasn't over. They were rebuilding together, one moment at a time.

As the weeks passed, Alessia could feel a shift within herself. The weight of fear didn't always dominate her thoughts. There were moments when she found herself laughing with her family, felt the sun on her face, and realized that there was still life to be lived beyond the walls she had confined herself to.

She wasn't whole yet, but she was beginning to heal. And, for the first time in a long time, she could see a future. One where her trauma didn't define her, but by the strength it took to rise above it.