" Get out of here, shoo !"

Nonna flails her arms wildly, trying to chase away the intruder disturbing the midday calm.

Focused on her temporary enemy, she doesn't notice my arrival, suitcase in hand and an amused smile on my face.

I drop my luggage, the noise snapping my grandmother out of her turmoil. The seagull flies away, taking Nonna's stern expression with it and leaving behind her radiant smile.

" My darling !" she exclaims, adjusting her hearing aid before extending her worn arms to me. "Let's go in and have a bite to eat, and then you can rest. Don't worry, everything will be fine." she reassures, her arms wrapped tightly around me as we walk towards the entrance.

Gazing at this haven of serenity, my heart warms with happiness as my troubled mind fills with memories woven over the years.

Pressed between the neighboring houses to which it is attached, it appears modest to all. But in my heart, it is quite the opposite. A witness to our cherished moments with my grandparents, it has been enriched by our laughter, Pape's discoveries and knowledge, moments of doubt and the attentive, understanding ears that have now grown deaf to whispers. But most of all, it is filled with love. An unconditional love that has allowed me to become who I am today.

More than just a house, it has become my refuge.

And God knows how much I need a refuge today.

The threshold welcomes us with the tantalizing aroma of a meal, instantly awakening my appetite. Nonna, like every grandmother, always ensures I lack nothing, especially food. Ever concerned for my comfort, she always gives up her room for me, opting for her convertible sofa instead.

"It's like living a second youth" , she would say.

Seated around the table, we savor the feast she has prepared with so much love. Fragments of memories, bursts of laughter, and the clinking of cutlery later, I go to rest.

Rejuvenated, I step out onto the terrace and purse my lips as I catch Nonna's silhouette on the beach, facing the waves.

My grandfather's tragic disappearance with his crew during a shipwreck was a tsunami in our lives. Like an anchor that never found the sand, his loss has weighed down our hearts with his absence, still affecting our daily lives. The sea took away my second father, but above all, Nonna's one and only love. The strength of her comforting words is nothing compared to the immensity of her grief. Ten years later, it still drives her to scan the horizon, hoping to see the outline of the boat that will bring her husband back to her arms one last time.

With a heavy heart, I push away the clouds of my sadness and join her. I gently place my hand on her shoulder to avoid startling her, then embrace her.

" Are you alright, Nonna ?"

" Of course, my darling ", she replies, taking my arm as we start to walk.

Every time I visit, this is our little ritual. The sand tickles our feet, the water refreshes them as our minds travel through time. Rich with anecdotes about her past with Pape or as an independent woman, our walks are true mental expeditions and offer unsuspected therapeutic virtues.

" Thank you, Nonna, for having me. I promise I won't disappoint you."

She stops abruptly and turns me to look directly into my eyes.

"You will never disappoint me. If your parents are foolish enough to reject you, then they don't deserve you !"

Her words break the dam holding back my tears, releasing an uncontrollable torrent. Wrapped in her arms, I feel the wave of her comfort wash over me. Having become my second mother, she is the only one who truly understands me. With unparalleled listening, each of her words betrays her wisdom and resonates with their fairness and kindness within me.

All that is lacking in my real mother.

Coming from a traditional family, my parents expect me to follow a conventional life path. Studies, a job, a husband, children, what else am I missing ? A dog ? In short, the whole setup that society wants to impose on us to reflect a perfect and successful life.

Exhausted by the weight of the mask suffocating me, I broke down and told them something they could never have envisioned for their only child.

" If you had seen the disgust in their eyes and that disappointment. They told me they regretted having a daughter like me, that I was the shame of the family. " I manage to say before my sobs choke my voice.

" They are the shame of the family. Their place is behind you, not by your side. I will never abandon you."

" R-Really ?"

"Of course. Biology is very interesting, but when you have a voice like yours, you must pursue your passion. Your determination and awareness will take you far. All I ask is that you don't burn out. This field is selective, tough, and full of sharks; don't lose yourself in those murky waters. Stay true to yourself and you will achieve your goal, I'm sure of it."

Relieved by her words, I hug her again.

Feeling supported and in the right place is priceless.

Each of our steps has left behind the imprint of our frustration, sadness, or anger, allowing the gentle breeze to fill our hearts with joy, calm, and serenity.

As we continue our conversation, my gaze falls on a small boat.

Facing the sea, it awaits only a willing soul to escape in pursuit of freedom, travel, and exploration. I smile at this idea whispered by my little knight.

As a child, when the common dream was to become a princess, I saw myself taking the place of the knight. Not for the honors, the white horse, or the armor, no. Nothing made me dream more than his wanderings and his freedom. From land to land, he walked, explored, fought, filling his memories with new adventures. Strong in his courage and determination, nothing stopped him. No obstacle, no difficulty, no enemy could divert him from his goal. Like him, I wanted my life to be nothing but adventure and freedom, guided only by my heart.

Growing up, the little knight became a chimera, and I had to resign myself to tucking him away in a corner of my mind. I listened to my parents' wishes. Becoming a shadow of myself, I acted like the good girl they loved to boast about, whose good behavior mirrored their "impeccable" upbringing.

But now, that is in the past. The princess's dress has torn under the knight's valiant armor.

*****

The nocturnal coolness makes the steam from my tea dance, which I hold tightly in my hands. Curled up under a blanket facing the sea, I admire the sparkle of its diamonds revealed by the moonlight. Closing my eyes, I enjoy this silence punctuated by the lapping of the water and the gentle breeze caressing my cheeks.

Overcome by fatigue, I begin to head back when I hear a dull thud behind me, followed by a muffled cry.

Facing the open patio door that seems to be screaming for me to enter, I remain petrified. My feet are rooted to the ground, and my erratic pulse pounds in my temples. Each beat, more intense than the last, fuels my curiosity. Without realizing it, I slowly turn to satisfy it.

Despite the darkness, I widen my eyes when they meet the silhouette unfolding under the moonlight. Silently, I instinctively tighten my grip around the teacup. My breath catches in fear as the shadow staggers closer. Only a few centimeters apart, my body finally breaks free from the layer of stone that held me captive and launches into a rescue attempt.

Initially clever, my idea quickly turns disastrous as my hand ends up burnt and bleeding, pierced by the shards of my freshly shattered cup on the table. I pull them out, keeping a sharp piece in my other hand.

Despite the pain, my fear paralyzes me again. Like a reflection of each other, we remain motionless for a few seconds before the shadow breaks the void between us. Without thinking, I strike blindly with my makeshift weapon, hoping to hit the silhouette's body. The subsequent cry of pain alerts me to my success as I run for shelter inside. I am about to close the window when it meets an obstacle, a foot.

" I don't mean any harm, I need help !" a male voice whispers.

" Go find it elsewhere !" I respond, trying to close the window with all my might.

Nonna's cavernous snoring startles me.

Taking advantage of my confusion, the stranger pushes his shoulder against the window. With the momentum, our bodies hit the floor in a symphony of muffled groans.

I get up before him and stand on guard, clutching my painfully throbbing hand. I cast a furtive glance at Nonna. Relieved by the return of her snoring filling the room, I tense up when shouts rise from the beach.

"Damn it, we need to find that son of a bitch !" starts the first.

"He can't be far !" continues a second.

"Over there ! I see blood tracks !" concludes a third.

Mouth half-open, I lower my eyes to the wreck that the threatening shadow has become.

"I really need your help ! Those guys are dangerous. They'll kill me if they find me. You and the snorer too."

"We're already screwed, they found your blood !" I whisper.

"That's what they think, but I threw them off track."

"Then stay on the terrace until they pass and then go back where you came from."

"Or you could treat me."

"Why would I do that ?"

"Because otherwise I'll scream." he murmurs gravely, like a condemned man's final words.

"You're not serious ?!"

"You don't want to find out just how serious !"

His grave tone pierces the darkness with his sincerity. The fear of his threat outweighs the fear he inspires in me and drives me to surrender.

I gently close the window to avoid alerting the bloodthirsty sharks.

"Go ahead, it's straight ahead." I murmur, ignoring the unpleasant feeling of having made the wrong choice.

With difficulty, he stands up to follow my directions. On the way, I grab the first aid kit from the bathroom. I take the opportunity to swallow some painkillers and wrap my injured hand in a cloth to compress the wound. We enter the bedroom, and I close the door behind us. Illuminated by the faint glow of the moon, I head to the window and close the shutters. As I do so, I hear the footsteps and voices moving away.

Out of sight, I finally turn on the light.

In the light, the silhouette takes the form of a man my age. My eyes widen and my pulse quickens at the sight of the blood covering him. His face, arms, chest, legs—no part is spared from the blood.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you."

Once again petrified under the gaze of Medusa, only my eyes manage to frantically dart from his belt to his face. My heart races, each beat pounding through my veins like the drum of growing terror.

"Oh, if that's what's making you nervous, I'll give it to you. Here."

To punctuate his words, he hands me his weapon. I initially recoil. Guns have always made me uneasy. Knowing that a simple pull of the trigger can change a person's fate frightens me to no end.

But tonight, that person might well be me. Guided by survival instinct, my body disregards its qualms and acts.

With a trembling hand, I take the threat placed in his confident palm. The cold touch of steel electrifies my body. Power veils the fear. My hand no longer trembles, my heart stops its drumming, and my mind regains its calm. This simple object in my hands calls forth the shadows of my soul to smother the light.

For a moment, I look up at the stranger before me. Stoic and impassive, the irregular rise and fall of his chest and his clenched jaw betray the underlying tension eating at him. Without breaking his gaze, I place the weapon on the bedside table to my left.

The fear of what it might reveal in me and the point of no return it represents push me to lock away the shadows and let my light shine.

My gesture steadies his breath, and a slight smile curves his lips. With a sigh, he sits on my bed.

I grimace at the thought of having to treat him, knowing I can't back out now. Bracing myself, I approach the stranger, still wary. Keeping a safe distance, I sit beside him and hand him a damp cloth to clean off the second skin of blood. Without waiting, he starts washing.

Little by little, his movements restore the blondness to his hair, the youth to his features, and the oceanic brightness to his eyes. Mesmerized by the depth of their magnetism, I don't immediately notice the bloody gash curving along his left cheekbone.

"D-Did I do that to you ?" I stammer, the obvious answer lingering in the back of my mind.

"Yeah, nice shot." he affirms, grimacing in pain as he removes the cloth from his wound.

His athletic body freed from its second skin, I set about tending to his injuries. Some deeper than others elicit cries of pain that he tries to stifle immediately. Even though Nonna's deafness assures us some protection, we're not safe from an unexpected wake-up to relieve her aging bladder.

The seconds stretch into minutes, accentuating the moment's difficulty. Finally, I finish the treatment and hand him some painkillers.

By the time I put away the supplies, I find him asleep on my bed. I try to wake him to make him leave, but he responds only with a groan before turning over.

My attempts are in vain; he refuses to open an eye.

Powerless against his sleep, I resign myself. With Nonna asleep in the living room, my only option to avoid arousing suspicion is this room.

I take the gun left on the bedside table and sit facing the bed, back against the wall and shoulder against the wardrobe. Suspicion keeps me awake, ready to draw if necessary.

A blink later, I open my eyes to Nonna's knocking echoing through the door. With a body aching and a hand burning with pain, I realize that despite my determination, I let my guard down and fell asleep.

"May ? Are you awake ?"

"Y-Yes, Nonna, I'm coming." I reply, struggling to get up, my eyes fixed on the still-sleeping stranger.

"Take your time, I'm heading to the fish market this morning. Breakfast is ready. Oh, and I cleaned up the mess from your teacup. I hope you didn't hurt yourself !"

Damn the cup ! Damn my hand !

"Oh yes, thank you ! No, just a small cut, nothing serious. See you later then !" I lie, looking at the deep gashes carving new lifelines into my palm.

Silence accompanies her departing footsteps. The rustle of sheets pulls me from my thoughts, and I see the injured man sitting up in bed, his face contorted in pain.

"Slept well...?"

"Ezio. Yeah, thanks."

"My grandmother just left, it's time for you to do the same." I venture, eager to rid myself of him and his troubles as soon as possible.

"But first, I need to get that."

He stands and tries to walk towards his weapon but collapses miserably onto the floor like dead weight.

"Wait, I'll help you." I offer, approaching to lift him.

"No ! I must do it alone ! he insists.

"Okay, okay, as you wish."

Arms crossed, I watch him painfully reach his goal.

"Come on, get up, let's go." I state mercilessly.

"Where to ?"

"Trust me. " I assert, extending my hand to him.

Still weakened and despite his ego, he accepts and leans on me to leave the house.

Laboriously, we descend the stairs leading to the beach. Luckily, Nonna lives on a nearly deserted part of the beach. Tourists or even locals never venture to this area as it is too difficult to access.

After a few minutes of walking, we reach the boat I had spotted the day before.

"Do you know how to navigate ? At least paddle ?" I ask.

"Yeah, don't worry !"

Galvanized by enthusiasm and adrenaline, he finds the strength to help me push the boat into the water. I help him climb aboard and give him a bag with medicine, food, and water.

"Try to survive, there are enough wrecks in the sea."

"Don't worry about me, I've survived far worse than this." he assures me with a wink.

His confession sends a shiver down my spine as my imagination, fertilized by his words, perverts with scenarios each more dangerous than the last.

The sound of his paddles whipping the water brings an end to my wild thoughts.

With a final effort, he turns and shouts to me:

"There are no coincidences, only rendez-vous !"

Smiling, paddles in hand, he turns away and gradually becomes the dark silhouette I had encountered a few hours earlier.