Digital Sanctuary

In the estate library Vittoria sat across the long desk where her laptop was open in front of her, the screen filled with notes for the Renaissance thesis presentation she still had to finish for Dr. Melissa Aris.

She had been working for nearly two hours, moving between scanned images of Florentine warehouse records and the outline of her argument.

The academic focus helped. It gave her something to hold onto while the rest of her life stayed locked behind biometric gates and armed patrols.

Her phone vibrated against the desk.

She glanced at the screen and felt her stomach tighten. Hannah’s name lit up with a string of new messages that had arrived in quick succession.

Hannah: Vittoria where the hell are you?

Hannah: I went by the house again. Your mom’s car is still gone

Hannah: People are saying you moved in with some rich guy at a secluded estate

Hannah: Call me. Right now. I’m serious

Vittoria stared at the messages for a long moment. The cursor on her thesis document blinked steadily. She picked up the phone and typed carefully.

Vittoria: I’m okay. I promise.

Hannah: That’s not an answer :)

Vittoria: My mom needed a change of location for medical reasons and everything got complicated

Hannah: Complicated how? You disappeared. You barely answer texts. And now you’re living on some private estate with a husband? Since when do you have a husband?

Vittoria’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. She felt guilty for lying to her best friend. She could still remember that night at Obsidian, Hannah laughing and pulling her onto the dance floor like the world was simple.

Vittoria: I’m safe. My mom is safe. That’s what matters right now.

Hannah: Safe from what? You’re scaring me

Vittoria: I can’t explain everything over text. Just trust me for a little longer. Please.

Hannah: I don’t like this

Vittoria: I know. I’m sorry. I’ll call when I can talk more freely.

Hannah: You better call me because I’m not dropping this

Vittoria set the phone face down on the desk and pressed her fingertips against her eyes. The lies felt thin even as she typed them. Hannah deserved better. She deserved the truth. But the truth would put her in danger, and Vittoria could not risk that.

She tried to return to the thesis notes. The presentation for Dr. Aris needed tighter transitions between the sections on guild regulation and the actual shipping manifests. She adjusted a paragraph, then another, but her concentration kept slipping. Every few minutes her eyes drifted back to the silent phone.

A soft knock sounded at the library doorway.

Maria stepped inside carrying a silver tray. The older woman moved quietly. She set the tray down on the corner of the desk. A small porcelain pot of black tea steamed gently beside a plate of sliced pears and a few ripe figs.

“You have been in here since lunch,” Maria said. Her voice was calm, almost gentle. “You need to eat something.”

Vittoria looked up. “I lost track of time.”

“That is easy to do in this room.” Maria poured the tea into a cup and placed it within easy reach. “The books do not judge how long you stay.”

Vittoria managed a small smile. “Thank you. You didn’t have to bring this.”

“I know.” Maria remained standing for a moment, her hands folded loosely in front of her apron. She studied Vittoria’s face with the kind of attention that missed very little. “You look troubled.”

“I’m fine.”

Maria did not argue the point. She simply waited.

Vittoria exhaled and reached for the tea. The warmth of the cup against her palms felt grounding. “My friend Hannah keeps texting. She thinks I'm in danger. She wants to know where I am.”

“And you cannot tell her the truth.”

“No.” Vittoria stared into the dark surface of the tea. “If I tell her everything, she becomes a target. If I keep lying, I feel like the worst person in the world.”

Maria nodded once, as if the problem was familiar. “It is a hard place to stand.”

“She thinks I’ve run off with some rich stranger and abandoned my real life. She’s not completely wrong.”

“You did not abandon anything,” Maria said. “You adapted. There is a difference.”

Vittoria looked at her. “Does it ever get easier? Keeping two versions of the truth?”

Maria’s expression loosened up. “Sometimes, but not always. You learn which people can carry the truth and which ones you must protect by keeping them away from the truth.” She reached out and gently adjusted the edge of the tray so the fruit sat closer to Vittoria’s laptop. “Eat. The work will still be there when you finish.”

Vittoria picked up a slice of pear. The sweetness sated the dry taste of guilt that had settled in her mouth. “Cassian said Enzo is monitoring my university login today.”

“Yes. That is standard when things are unsettled.”

“I hate feeling watched even when I’m just trying to finish a presentation.”

Maria’s mouth curved in a faint, knowing smile. “He watches because he cares what happens to you. The method is not always gentle, but the reason is clear.”

Vittoria did not answer right away. She took another bite of the fruit and let the quiet of the library settle around them again. Outside the windows the afternoon light had shifted, turning the ocean a deeper gray.

Maria moved to the nearest bookshelf and ran a cloth lightly over the spines of a few older books, giving Vittoria space without leaving the room entirely. The soft sound of the cloth against leather was oddly comforting.

After a few minutes Vittoria spoke again. “Do you think Hannah will eventually accept the distance?”

“She will if she loves you,” Maria said without turning around. “People who care find ways to stay close even when the full story is locked away. It takes time.”

Vittoria nodded, though Maria could not see it. She returned her attention to the laptop and forced herself to focus on the next section of the presentation. The words came more slowly now, but they came. She adjusted a citation, clarified a transition, and saved the file twice out of habit.

Her phone stayed silent. Hannah had stopped texting for the moment.

Maria finished with the bookshelves and returned to the desk. She refilled Vittoria’s tea without being asked.

“You are doing the best you can with the choices in front of you,” she said quietly. “That is all anyone can do.”

Vittoria met her eyes. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”

“It rarely does.” Maria rested a brief, warm hand on Vittoria’s shoulder, then stepped back. “I will be in the kitchen if you need anything else. Do not stay in this chair until the light is completely gone.”

“I won’t.”

Maria left as quietly as she had arrived. The library felt silent once she was gone, but the tray of tea and fruit remained in the middle of the desk.

Vittoria stared at the open presentation file for another long moment. Then she closed the messaging app, opened her thesis notes again, and began typing.