Chiara’s POV “Mommy, look! I made a butterfly!” Sofia exclaimed, holding up her craft project—a chaotic swirl of glitter, glue, and colored paper. “That’s beautiful, sweetheart,” I said, crouching down to admire it. Luca sat nearby, tiny hands busy assembling what looked like a spaceship out of popsicle sticks. A knock at the door pulled me out of my small bubble of peace. I straightened and glanced at Caterina, who had just entered the room. “Caterina, keep an eye on them,” I said, stepping toward the door and opening it. Raffaele stood there. He smiled warmly, but the tension in his eyes gave away the purpose of his visit. “Raffaele,” I greeted, forcing a smile. “What brings you here?” “Can I come in?” he asked, his voice calm, but carrying a weight that put me immediately on edge. I nodded and stepped aside, closing the door behind him. Once in the living room, I folded my arms. “What’s going on?” His expression softened as his gaze flicked toward the doorway, where Sofia
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