Chapter 4

The Roman marketplace buzzed with afternoon energy as I wove through stalls selling fresh produce and handmade pasta. Two weeks had passed since my arrival, and I was finally beginning to feel human again. The simple act of choosing my own groceries—something I'd never done as Mrs. Ethan Mitchell—felt like a small revolution.

Isabella had insisted I needed fresh air and normalcy, despite my protests about staying hidden. "You can't live like a ghost forever, bambina," she'd said, pressing a canvas shopping bag into my hands. "Besides, Rome has ten million people. What are the chances?"

I should have listened…