The flames ate my painting.Three months of work, three years of proof, turned to ash.I stood there, watching the orange fire lick the canvas, consuming the image of us holding each other. My heart ached with a dull pain, but I didn't cry.I knew this was how it would be. This was always Vittorio’s choice."Aurelia..." Vittorio said, pausing as he carried Carina past me. "Are you okay?""I'm fine," my voice was so calm it surprised me. "Carina's ankle is more important."He stared at me, clearly not expecting me to be so quiet."By the way, since Carina's back from Europe, she should stay here for a while," I said, turning to face them. "I'll put her in the guest room next to yours. I'll move downstairs."In Vittorio's arms, Carina lifted her head. A flash of triumph crossed her eyes before it was replaced by gratitude. "Aurelia, you're so kind... I won't stay long. I'll move out as soon as I find a place."Vittorio stared at me, his expression complicated. "Are you sure?""I'm sure."
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