Chapter 12

The cold, sterile air of the hallway does little to cool my nerves as I lean against the wall outside the showers.

I keep my eyes on the opposite wall, trying to ignore the thoughts swirling in my head.

The door creaks open, and I hear the soft shuffle of footsteps before I see him. Luigi steps out, his expression unreadable, the orange uniform hanging loosely on his frame. His dark hair is damp, curling slightly at the edges.

"All set," he says casually, I push off the wall, keeping my movements sharp and professional. "Good. Let's go." My voice is steady, but inside, I'm still unraveling.

We walk in silence down the narrow corridor, the sound of our footsteps echoing off the walls. I don't glance at him, not once, even though I can feel his presence just a step behind me.

We reach the door, and I unlock it, stepping aside to let him in. Instead of going straight to his bed, he leans casually against the small window, his arm draped over the top.

I close the door behind him. "You're not supposed to be standing there, Mangione."

As I say it, I finally look at him for the first time since our argument. Our eyes meet, even if through the small window, and for a moment, the world outside fades. The intensity of the moment hangs between us.

He glances at me. "And yet, here I am, Officer. I'm sorry.."

I sigh, running a hand through my hair fixing them in my ponytail . "You really have to make everything difficult, don't you?"

He straightens up, his gaze flickering over me. "what's your name ?"

"Caterina," I say without thinking.

He raises an eyebrow. "Italian, huh?"

I nod. "My mom is." a little smile forming on my face, He chuckles softly, studying me with a curious look. "Makes sense now. You've got that vibe."

I don't know how to respond to that, so I just shake my head and step toward the door, getting ready to leave.

his voice cuts through the silence.

"Buona vigilia."

I stop in my tracks, I turn back slowly to face him. He's still leaning against the window,

I just give a slight nod and say " to you too" and give him a hint of a smile before walking out.

Oh my god what kind of response is 'to you too'? He is in a prison...

By the time my shift ends, I'm filled with a growing sense of dread. I keep replaying the interaction in my mind, questioning my every move. I definitely messed up today, too personal. I think, my stomach in knots.

I head to Daniels' office, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling. When I knock and push the door open, I'm met with both Daniels and Roberts waiting for me.

The air feels thicker now. My heart starts to race.

Roberts sits back in his chair, arms crossed, a look of quiet amusement in his eyes. Daniels, however, seems more serious, her gaze sharp as she assesses me.

"Take a seat, Vega," Roberts says, his voice casual "We need to have a little chat."

I hesitate for a moment, but there's no way around it. I sit down, my palms sweaty as I brace myself for whatever's coming next.

As I sit down, Daniels speaks first, her tone measured but calm.

"As I mentioned earlier when we spoke...You've been doing an impressive job so far, Vega. Especially for your first days."

Her words catch me completely off guard. My eyes widen slightly, and I can feel the tension in my shoulders ease, just a little.

"Thank you," I say carefully, still unsure of where this is going.

Daniels nods, leaning forward slightly. "Your reports are thorough, you've been punctual, and from what I've observed, you're adapting well to the environment here."

Roberts, sitting to the side with his arms crossed, doesn't look entirely convinced, but he stays silent for now.

"I wanted to let you know that you'll have Christmas Day off. Enjoy it take the time to recharge."

I nod, still trying to figure out where this conversation is headed.

"And on the 26th," she adds, glancing briefly at Roberts before continuing, "we'll be moving Luigi out of isolation. He'll still be in the same unit, but you won't need to be his personal guard anymore. You'll transition to more general duties around the block."

I stiffen slightly but keep my expression neutral.

Not his personal guard anymore?

Daniels doesn't pause long enough for me to dwell on it. "Roberts will be assigned to assist you during this adjustment period. He'll help you get familiar with the broader responsibilities."

My stomach twists at the mention of Roberts. He leans back in his chair, arms still crossed, and gives me a look that's hard to read half smug, half disinterested.

"Got it," I reply, my voice steady, but I can't help the flicker of unease that creeps in.

"Good," Daniels says, standing to signal the end of the conversation. "You've done well this week, Vega. Keep it up."

I nod again and quickly rise to leave, the weight of the news settling in as I step out of the office.

While I change out of my uniform, my thoughts spiral back to what Daniels said. Luigi will have more freedom now. No more isolation. That should feel like a good thing, less tension, fewer excuses to be around him. But it doesn't.

I pull on my jacket, the routine movements doing nothing to quiet the storm in my head. No more daily checks, no more stolen moments. Whatever line we were already crossing will disappear completely.

And with Roberts hovering around, that's probably for the best. The man isn't just intimidating; he's unpredictable, and I've caught enough of his snide remarks to know he's paying closer attention than he lets on.

I take a deep breath and grab my bag, trying to shake off the weight of it all. It doesn't matter, I tell myself. This was never supposed to happen. None of it.

But as I step into the cold evening air, I can't help the gnawing thought: Then why does it feel like I'm losing something I never even had?

As I step into my car, the chill from the evening follows me, clinging to my skin. I sit there for a moment, staring at the looming building in front of me, the harsh fluorescent lights of the prison casting long, cold shadows.

I turn on the radio, letting the static fill the silence before a familiar tune spills into the car "So High School." The melody floods the small space, and before I can even stop it, the lyrics cut through me like a knife.

"I want to find you in a crowd..."

I grip the wheel tighter, my knuckles whitening. His face flashes in my mind the intensity of his eyes, the way his lips formed those words: "Isn't this what you want, Officer?" I shake my head, trying to shove the memory away.

The seatbelt digs into my shoulder as I buckle it, the next line pulling me back under:"Just to hide from you."

I freeze. My hands hover over the wheel, then fall into my lap as I let out a frustrated sigh.

This is insane, I think.

I sit back, taking a deep breath, willing my hands to stop trembling as they clutch the wheel. This ends here, I tell myself. No more Luigi.

I shake my head, starting the car, the engine rumbling beneath me as if it's agreeing. This is ridiculous. I'm ridiculous.

I pull out of the parking lot, keeping my eyes locked on the road. The prison's lights fade in my rearview mirror, but the weight in my chest doesn't lift. I press harder on the gas.

As I drive, the city's lights blur around me. The snow flurries dance in the headlights, soft but relentless. I focus on them, anything to drown out the whirlwind in my mind.

It's always like this, I crush right away for some random and get involved fast. Normal. Just keep it normal.

But deep down, I know I'm lying to myself. The truth is a knot in my stomach, tightening with every mile closer to home.

I pull into the driveway of my apartment building, killing the engine but not moving. The silence inside the car feels heavier than it should, almost suffocating. My fingers linger on the key in the ignition, and for a moment, I consider just sitting there all night.

Eventually, I force myself out of the car, the cold biting against my skin as I make my way toward the door. My boots crunch against the thin layer of snow on the ground, the sound too loud in the quiet of the evening.

The strange, creeping sensation hits me just as I reach the front steps. It's subtle at first, like the faintest brush of wind against my back. But as I fumble for my keys, it grows. The hairs on my neck stand on end, and I can't shake the feeling that someone's watching me.

I spin around, scanning the street. Nothing. Just the same empty stretch of parked cars and darkened windows I always see.

Get a grip, Caterina.

As I push open the door to my building, the warmth of the hallway is an instant relief against the biting cold outside. I'm pulling my keys from my pocket, already half-lost in my thoughts about the day, when I nearly collide with someone coming out.

"Hey, watch it!" I snap, stumbling back a step.

The guy doesn't respond. He doesn't even look at me.

He's dressed in all black hoodie pulled up over his head, dark jeans that look worn at the knees, and sneakers that make soft, deliberate thuds against the tile floor. A large gray backpack is slung over his shoulders, so big it almost swallows him.

I frown, watching as he keeps walking, almost in a hurry. Something about him feels... off. Not just because he ignored me, but because I don't recognize him. I've never seen him in the building before, and I know most of the faces around here, at least vaguely.

As I step into my apartment, closing the door behind me with a soft click. The familiar space feels a little quieter than usual, but I shake off the strange feeling and head straight to my bedroom.

After a quick shower, I pick out something nice to wear a soft sweater and a pair of dark jeans. I leave my hair loose, the natural waves falling over my shoulders. It feels good to look presentable for once, a small change from the usual uniform.

With my outfit ready, I scoop up my work uniform and toss it into the washing machine. As I do, a faint crinkling sound makes me pause. I reach into the pocket and pull out the small piece of paper from last night, the note.

For a moment, I just stare at it. The handwriting, the cryptic message

I unfold it slowly, the words staring back at me like they're alive. My chest tightens.

"What does this even mean?" I whisper to myself, tracing the letters with my thumb. My mind flashes back to the guy in the hallway. No. Don't start spiraling again, I tell myself, shoving the thought aside.

I fold the paper back up, tucking it into a drawer for now. Out of sight, but definitely not out of mind.

The day has been heavy, and the thought of spending some time with my mom is the only thing that feels like a relief right now. I grab my bag, check the time, it's getting late, and head out of the apartment.

The drive to my mom's place is short, but my mind feels miles away. Every passing car, every turn, feels like a blur. I'm barely even aware of the music playing in the background.

Arriving at my mom's place, I take a moment to breathe before I get out of the car. I walk up the familiar steps to her front door and ring the bell.