Valeria hesitated for only a second before slamming the door shut.
The sound echoed like a gunshot in the empty hallway. She leaned against the wood, trying to steady her trembling hands.
"Ezio?" she whispered to herself. "What kind of name...?"
Another knock. Softer this time. As if he knew she was still there, unsure.
"I didn't come to hurt you," Ezio's voice came through the wood, deep and steady. "But if you stay in there… they'll find that letter first."
Valeria swallowed hard. The envelope felt heavier than before.
She flung the door open.
Ezio was still there, unmoving, as if time hadn't passed.
"Come in. But if you lie to me, I swear I'll throw you out myself."
He nodded and stepped inside with controlled movements. He didn't look around. Just at her.
"I have no reason to lie," he said. "What you found… it's not just a letter. It's a key."
"A key to what?"
Ezio held her gaze for a long moment.
"To everything you didn't know about Matteo. And about yourself."
"A key to what?" Valeria asked again, her voice steadier now.
Ezio opened his mouth, but didn't get a chance to answer.
A sharp, electric hum sliced through the air like an invisible spear. They both turned toward the window at the same time.
"Down!" Ezio shouted, pushing her behind the couch.
A split second later, the glass shattered into a thousand pieces. A small drone crashed into the wall, sparks flying. The impact left a dark scorch mark on the plaster—a clear warning.
Valeria shielded her head, breathing in short gasps.
"What… what was that?"
Ezio slowly rose, examining the wreckage.
"A message."
"From who?"
"From the ones looking for the key too. And they're not interested in you keeping it."
Valeria's eyes widened.
"Are you saying someone's watching me?"
"Since you opened that box," he said. "And now they know you're not alone."
"We have to go," Ezio said, eyes fixed on the shattered window.
"To where?" Valeria asked, heart pounding against her ribs.
Ezio rushed to the kitchen, opened a small cabinet, and pulled out a black backpack. He opened it quickly: flashlight, gloves, a sealed folder, something that looked like a tracking device.
"You had that ready?" she asked, stepping back.
"Long before I met you. This didn't start with you, Valeria. But it sped up because of you."
A metallic sound—like a hook scraping along the balcony railing—made them both turn.
"Back door!" Ezio yelled.
Valeria barely managed to grab the box before he took her hand and pulled her. They ran down the hall, leaping down the stairs two at a time. A muffled shout echoed from above. The shadows followed them. They didn't know how many. Or who.
Once on the street, Ezio didn't stop. He turned toward a black motorcycle parked on the corner.
"Get on."
"Do you even know where we're going?"
"No, but I know where we can't stay."
The motorcycle stopped in front of an old house, on the edge of a neighborhood forgotten by time. The facade was worn down, but the bars on the windows were new. Ezio rang a barely visible bell three times. They waited.
Valeria looked around. Everything was too still, as if the air was holding its breath.
Then, the door opened.
A woman with short white hair and gray eyes stared at them without surprise. She wore a long coat and leather gloves. She looked like she had stepped out of another century.
"Come in, quickly. No time for doubts," she said with a firm voice.
Inside, it was warm. Old books, maps on the walls, a radio whispering in a language Valeria didn't understand.
Ezio nodded.
"This is Alenka. An old friend. She taught me how to disappear."
Alenka looked at Valeria with interest but without judgment.
"You don't know what you're holding, do you?"
Valeria shook her head.
"But I want to find out."
"Then you're in the right place."
Valeria sat in an armchair covered with a thick blanket. Alenka was brewing an herbal tea that smelled like a damp forest. Ezio stood, restless, arms crossed, staring out the window.
"I don't understand why someone would follow me because of this," Valeria said, pointing to the box still tucked inside her bag.
"Because sometimes, it's not the object that matters… but what it represents," Alenka answered slowly.
Valeria watched her, searching her face for a crack, a sign that she knew more than she let on.
"And what does it represent?"
Alenka smiled, barely.
"Answers. Some that many would rather bury."
Ezio sighed.
"We should rest for a few hours and move before sunrise."
"You can stay the night. But don't open anything. Don't speak to anyone. And above all… don't trust what seems easy," Alenka warned, handing Valeria a small rusted key. "You'll need it later."
Valeria held it, confused. She wanted to ask more, but something in Alenka's eyes told her not to.
Dawn arrived wrapped in a thick silence. Ezio was sleeping on the floor near the door, like an improvised guardian. Alenka was gone. Valeria woke up with her heart racing, as if something in her dreams had warned her it was time to move.
She pulled the small key from her pocket and examined it under the soft light coming through the window. It didn't seem to fit anything in the room… or maybe it did.
She moved carefully toward an old dark wood cabinet in the corner. Tried the lock.
Nothing.
She tried it on a small metal box on the shelf.
Still nothing.
But just as she was about to give up, she noticed a loose tile on the floor, partially hidden beneath the rug. She crouched, lifted it, and found a small wooden hatch. The key slid in with a soft click.
Inside, there was only a yellowed envelope, old, with a single word written in black ink: Veritas.
Valeria held it in her hands. She didn't dare open it yet.
Just then, she heard soft footsteps behind her. She turned quickly.
Ezio.
"I can't sleep," he murmured, voice low. "What's that?"
"I don't know yet," she replied, tucking the envelope into her jacket. "But I think it's bringing me closer to Matteo than I expected."
Valeria sat on the edge of the makeshift bed and, with trembling hands, opened the envelope. The paper inside was yellowed, crackling with every movement. A single sheet, typed, with faded but readable letters.
"If you found this, it means you're closer than you think. But be careful: knowing doesn't always mean being ready."
Below, there was a list of names. Some were crossed out. One stood out, underlined twice: Cassandra Ferreyra.
Valeria read it out loud, as if saying it might spark a memory.
Ezio stepped closer.
"Who is she?"
"I have no idea. But someone didn't want this paper to see the light," Valeria said, touching the scorched edge of the page.
"We could look for her."
Valeria hesitated. Her instinct said yes, but something else —a sharp twist in her chest, maybe an echo of warning— told her to wait.
"Not yet," she murmured. "First I need to know why Matteo wrote this. And for whom."
Ezio looked at her, as if he already knew this envelope was just the beginning.
A sudden thump echoed on the roof. Ezio and Valeria froze.
"Did you hear that?" she whispered.
He nodded, stepping toward the window. Nothing visible. But the air had changed. Something was off.
Suddenly, the ceiling light flickered and a high-pitched sound filled the room, like interference. Valeria covered her ears, the envelope falling to the floor. The sound lasted just seconds, but left a strange pressure lingering.
When silence returned, an old rotary phone —one neither of them had noticed in the corner— began to ring.
"Was that always there?" Valeria asked.
Ezio shook his head.
The ringing continued, steady, almost hypnotic. Valeria picked it up.
"Hello?"
Silence.
Then, a voice—cracked with static, not from this time:
"Don't trust him."
The line went dead.
Valeria turned to Ezio, but he was gone.
Valeria dropped the receiver, hands trembling. The silence was thick, almost solid.
Ezio was gone. But there'd been no sound of a door, no footsteps. Just... absence.
She was about to run after him when something on the floor caught her eye. A lifted corner of the rug, right where the envelope had fallen. She crouched, hesitating.
She pulled it gently.
Beneath it was an old wooden hatch, rusted lock and all. It bore signs of being opened many times. In the center, carved by hand, a single "M" surrounded by an odd symbol she couldn't recognize.
She inhaled deeply. Her heart pounded, like it already knew this would change everything.
She didn't open the hatch. Not yet.
Instead, she turned to the envelope on the floor. Picked it up. Inside was a typewritten page. No name. Just a few lines.
"If you're reading this, it's already too late. And if you trust the man with the sad eyes, you may never reach the end of this story."
A creak behind her.
She turned.
The hatch was... slightly open.
The air turned colder, suddenly. Not just a breeze—it felt like something had slipped in through that hatch, something that didn't quite belong to this world.
Valeria stepped back, the page still in her hand.
Then she heard it.
A dry sound. Like nails scratching wood. Then another. Closer. Coming from the hatch.
Her heart pounded against her ribs.
—Ezio —she whispered, even knowing he wasn't there.
Another scratch. Another sound. This time, it came with ragged breathing—almost animal. And then… a whisper. Barely a torn murmur.
—Valeria...
Her blood froze.
The voice came from down there.
The hatch creaked open a little more, as if something was pushing from inside. Valeria wanted to run, to scream, to flee—but her feet wouldn't move. She shut her eyes briefly, summoning courage.
But before she could get close, the front door burst open.
It was Lena. Gasping. Terrified.
—Don't go near it! —she shouted—. Close it, now!
Lena lunged at the hatch, slamming it shut with force. The echo of the impact rumbled through the apartment.
—What the hell was that? —Valeria whispered, barely audible.
—Don't ask. Not now.
Lena fumbled for some rusted chains beside the hatch and locked it with a twisted padlock.
—Matteo didn't want you to open it —she said through clenched teeth—. Because he knew that if you did… it could come back.
—What thing?
Lena looked at her, serious. Her voice dropped, as if afraid it might hear them.
—Something he unleashed by mistake. Something that feeds on memory… and guilt.
Valeria clutched the page in her hand. Her name, written in what looked like old blood or ink, still trembled on the paper. She had questions—but deep inside, she knew now wasn't the time to ask.
—We have to go —Lena said, more firmly—. It's not safe here.
They left through the apartment's back door, walking fast through shadows. Just as they turned the corner, Valeria froze.
A tall man in a long coat and dark sunglasses stood across the street. Watching them. Not moving. Just watching.
—Do you know him? —Lena asked under her breath.
Valeria shook her head, but deep down… she felt those eyes had seen her before.
Lena locked the door to the small hostel room where they had taken refuge. It was a plain space, with a single bed and a flickering floor lamp. Outside, the city remained awake, but inside, the world seemed suspended in silence.
Valeria sat on the edge of the bed, holding the box like a piece of dynamite. Lena handed her a blanket and sat on the floor, back against the wall.
—Was it always like that with Matteo? —Valeria asked, staring into the void.
Lena hesitated.
—No. In the beginning… he was brilliant. Magnetic. But he had secrets. And when you keep too many... you break from the inside.
Silence wrapped around them for a few seconds.
—Did you love him?
Lena looked at her with a mix of sadness and resignation.
—Not like you did. Mine was devotion. Yours was… something else.
Valeria lowered her head. Exhaustion pressed on her chest like a weight.
—I'm losing track of what was real and what wasn't.
—That's normal —Lena whispered—. But you're not alone. At least not tonight.
For the first time, Valeria closed her eyes without feeling she had to be on guard. Not completely. But just as she let herself sink onto the bed, she heard it.
A whisper.
It didn't come from Lena. Nor from outside. It was a familiar voice, too close.
"Valeria…"
And then, the chapter ended.