The next morning, Nico was still running a fever.

I should have kept him home, but the incident papers from the training hall had to be signed that day. Insurance, liability, internal reports, none of it could wait. So I bundled him into his coat and took him with me to the family law office.

He was quiet most of the drive.

When we were almost there, he asked, "Do you think Dad will be around?"

I kept my eyes on the road. "We're just here to finish the paperwork."

That answer was enough to tell him not to ask again.

The secretary took us upstairs, and the moment we stepped onto the floor, I saw Dante at the counter.

Claire was beside him.

Leo was leaning against the desk, swinging one leg, looking far too pleased with himself for that early in the morning.

There was a stack of papers spread out in front of them. The one on top caught my eye at once.

Elite junior program authorization.

I stopped walking.

That spot had been mentioned for Nico weeks ago. One of the trainers had pulled me aside after practice and said that, if he stayed on track, they would move him up by the end of the month.

Dante was signing it for Leo.

Nico saw him then, and for a second everything else seemed to fall away. The fever, the bandage on his shoulder, the way he had cried himself to sleep the night before. He stepped forward with the incident file clutched in both hands.

"Dad."

Dante looked up.

Before he could speak, Leo pulled the paper toward himself and grinned.

"So this is mine now?"

Nico stopped where he was.

"That spot was supposed to be mine."

Leo gave him a slow look, starting with the file in his hands and ending at the bandage under his coat.

"You couldn't even make it through one accident."

I moved before Nico could answer and put myself between them.

"He was in a fire yesterday," I said to Dante. "And this is what you're doing this morning?"

Dante didn't even glance at the file in Nico's hands.

"Leo's paperwork was already scheduled."

"So was Nico's," I said. "Or were you too busy to notice?"

Claire stepped in lightly, voice calm, almost gentle.

"Serena, no one is trying to hurt him. He's exhausted, he's injured, and he clearly shouldn't be here. Maybe pulling him from the program for a while is the best thing."

I turned to her.

"No one asked you."

She looked stung, but only for a second. Then she lowered her eyes and said, "I'm only trying to be realistic."

Nico had gone very still behind me. After a moment, he tugged at my sleeve.

When I looked down, his face was white.

"That place really was mine, wasn't it?" he asked.

I opened my mouth.

Dante answered first.

"If one accident is enough to break him, then he was never fit to be the Moretti heir."

The whole hallway seemed to go quiet after that.

Nico didn't cry. He didn't say anything at all. He just lowered his head and tightened his grip on the file until the papers bent under his fingers.

I looked at Dante for a long moment.

Then I walked to the counter, took the incident file from Nico's hands, and placed it in front of the secretary.

"Process these," I said. "And withdraw his elite-track placement."

She froze and looked at Dante.

I didn't.

"This is over," I said. "Nico is done with the Moretti elite program, and we're done."

Dante came home late that night.

Nico was already asleep. I was at the dining table sorting the papers from the law office when Dante saw the withdrawal form on top of the stack.

"So now you're using our son to make a point?"

I looked at him and said nothing.

He tossed his coat over a chair. "What happened this morning ends there. Nico does not leave the elite track because you say so. And whatever you said at the office, I'm treating it as anger."

"It wasn't anger."

He laughed once.

"You're not leaving, Serena."

He said it like he already knew. Like four years of waiting had proven it.

"You won't walk away," he said. "And you won't cut Nico off from this family."

I sealed the last envelope and set it aside. "You can test that."

He studied my face, then went upstairs.

Claire came the next afternoon.

I was in the living room setting up a small birthday dinner for Nico. He had barely spoken since the fire, and I did not want a crowd. Just cake, a few children, and one quiet evening.

Claire arrived with a gift bag and a hard drive.

"I came to apologize," she said. "For yesterday. Leo picked something out for Nico, and Dante recorded a message."

I did not ask her in.

She set the drive on the table anyway. "Don't be too hard on him. He never reacts well when he thinks someone is forcing his hand."

I looked at her. "You came here to tell me that?"

"I came because this doesn't have to get uglier," she said. "You've known him long enough to understand that."

"This is my son's home," I said. "Not yours."

Her face tightened for a second.

"You should still let Nico see the video," she said. "Dante did remember today."

After she left, I stared at the hard drive for a long time before having it connected to the screen.

That evening stayed small and quiet. Nico managed a smile when he blew out the candles. For a little while, I thought we might get through it.

Then the video started.

It was not a birthday message.

The first image was from a dinner in Chicago. Dante stood near the end of a long table with a drink in his hand. Someone off camera asked him when he had felt most at home in the past few years.

He thought for a moment.

Then he said it was one winter night during a blackout. Claire had been in the kitchen by candlelight, trying to get Leo to sleep. Leo had clung to his sleeve and begged him not to leave. That, he said, was the first time he thought maybe there was no reason to go back to New York at all.

The room went silent.

I turned to Nico. He was still holding his plate, but all the color had drained from his face.

At that exact moment, Claire called.

I answered.

"Did the wrong clip play?" Claire asked quickly. "I'm so sorry. I meant to send the birthday message. They must have mixed the files."

I said nothing.

"You shouldn't read too much into it," she said. "Chicago was different. Leo needed him, and once he started feeling at home with us, you know Dante never wanted to leave."

Then more videos started arriving on my phone.

In one, Dante was fastening Leo into the passenger seat of an armored SUV. In another, he was cutting a steak for him at dinner. In the last, Leo held up a new training badge while Dante stood beside him and said, "Good boy."

I locked the screen and set the phone down.

Nico had not moved.

I took the plate from his hands and crouched in front of him. "Do you want to go upstairs?"

He nodded.

I carried him to bed and waited until he fell asleep.

Then I went back downstairs, stood alone in the dark living room, and called Vivian.

She answered at once.

"Serena?"

"The position you offered me," I said. "Is it still open?"

A pause.

"Yes. Have you decided?"

I looked at the hard drive still sitting on the table.

"Yes."

"How soon can you get here?"

I switched off the lights.

"Three days."

Vivian did not ask many questions. She only said the position was still mine.

After I hung up, I looked at the hard drive on the table and started counting.

Three days.

In three days, Nico and I would be gone.

Dante came home early that night.

Nico was on the living room rug opening his birthday gifts. When he heard the door, he looked up once, then back down without saying a word.

Dante stopped, then set a gray shopping bag on the coffee table.

"That's for you," he said.

Nico did not touch it.

"I have regular training tomorrow," he said. "I should sleep."

Dante looked at me instead.

"I heard about the video," he said. "Claire brought the wrong drive. It wasn't intentional."

I kept clearing the plates.

Then he added, "I'm clearing my schedule for the next few days."

"For who?" I asked.

"For you. For Nico."

I finally looked at him.

"You don't need to clear anything," I said. "We're doing fine."

The room went quiet.

After a moment, he turned back to Nico. "I'll take you to regular training tomorrow."

Nico did not even lift his head.

"No," he said. "The driver can take me."

Dante's face hardened.

He was used to us waiting for him. Used to the idea that he could come back whenever he wanted and still find us standing in the same place.

This time, neither of us did.

The next afternoon, I took Nico to the family records office.

That was where the Morettis handled security clearances, household registration, internal access, and family files. I asked for our records under the excuse of updating expired paperwork. When the secretary spread everything out, I began signing.

Nico sat beside me and watched without asking a question.

We were almost finished when footsteps sounded behind us.

I looked up and saw Dante.

His gaze dropped to the papers on the desk, and his face changed.

"What are you doing here?"

"Updating old records," I said.

He stepped closer and pulled the top form free. It was one of the family access sheets, and my name and Nico's had already been crossed out.

His voice went cold.

"You're taking him out of the system?"

"It had to be done sooner or later."

He looked at me for a long moment. "Serena, what exactly are you doing?"

I slid the rest of the papers into the folder.

"You always said I wouldn't leave," I said. "Now you can watch."

His grip tightened on the form.

"This is because of that video?"

"No," I said. "It's because I'm done waiting."

He stared at me, anger rising now, but Nico stood first.

"Mom," he said quietly. "Let's go."

I took his hand and walked past Dante.

This time, he did not stop us.

When we reached the door, he said behind me, "If you walk this far, don't expect me to turn around and fix it for you."

I kept walking.

"Then don't."

My phone rang before we reached home.

It was Dante's assistant.

"He cleared tonight for you and Nico," she said carefully. "Now he's at Claire's place. He's been drinking."

I said nothing.

She hesitated. "He isn't exactly-"

"I know," I said, cutting her off. "Let him stay there."

Then I hung up.

Nico sat in the passenger seat, holding his jacket in his lap. He stayed quiet until we were almost home.

"Are we really leaving?" he asked.

"Yes."

He looked out the window.

"Then I'm not asking if Dad is coming anymore."

I kept both hands on the wheel and said nothing.

That night, I checked the documents again and packed our passports, cash, medication, and Nico's medical file into the same case.

Two days were left.