chapter 6

Matteo closed the door behind Jax and leaned against it, taking a deep breath. The room felt colder now, the silence louder. he sat back on the old couch, the weight of the leather pouch pressing against his chest like a heavy stone. The city’s noise buzzed outside — cars, distant voices, sirens — but inside, the room felt quiet, almost empty.

He closed his eyes and memories flooded in.

He was just 16 when his parents died. A reckless car crash on a rainy night — sudden, brutal, leaving him and little Leo alone in the world. They had no family to turn to, no safety net. Just each other.

Matteo remembered holding Leo in his arms, so small and fragile, his breathing shallow and uneven. The hospital bills piled up faster than the money could come in, and the doctors warned that Leo’s heart wasn’t strong. The asthma only made things worse.

From that day, Matteo’s childhood ended. He became a protector, a provider — though some days he barely felt like a kid himself. The streets were cold, unforgiving, but they were all he knew.

That’s when he met Jax.

Jax was rough around the edges, with a crooked grin and sharp eyes that missed nothing. They met during a scuffle over a stolen bike — Matteo had tried to take it, and Jax caught him. But instead of fighting, Jax offered a deal: stick with me, and maybe we both get out of this mess.

They became partners — two street kids trying to survive by any means.

Matteo’s dreams, once full of hope, had faded into a single goal: keep Leo alive. Keep them both breathing, one day at a time.

Now, with the pouch hidden beneath his jacket, Matteo knew he was risking everything. The chance to change their fate was slim, but it was all he had.

He looked toward the small bedroom where Leo slept, chest rising and falling with a fragile rhythm.

“We’ll make it, Leo,” Matteo whispered. “No matter what.”

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He looked down at the leather pouch again, its weight heavier than before. Tomorrow night felt like a line he had to cross — no turning back.

In the small bedroom, Leo lay on the thin mattress, eyes closed but face pale and tight from the asthma medicine. Matteo crawled beside him, brushing a sweaty strand of hair from his brother’s forehead.

“Hey, little man,” he whispered. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

Leo’s breathing was steady for now, but Matteo knew it could change at any moment. The hospital visits, the machines, the bills — they all piled up like mountains he couldn’t climb.

Matteo’s throat tightened. He had to do this—for Leo. For their future.

He stood up and grabbed his worn jacket, checking the pouch in the inner pocket one more time.

Outside, the city was dark, but Matteo’s mind was racing. Tomorrow would be the hardest night yet.

He sat back down on the couch, pulling his jacket tight. Somewhere out there, danger waited. But so did a chance — a slim one — to change everything.

He closed his eyes and whispered, “We’ll make it. Somehow.”

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