When Luca arrived at the flat, Daniel sat on the sofa reading a book. He looked up when he heard the door open, and as soon as he saw Maldo in Luca's arms, his features froze and his eyes widened in shock, his voice trembling with fear:
"What happened to him?!"
Sally replied quickly, hiding behind Luca's leg:
"It's my fault... He followed me to the middle of the street... Then he collapsed from exhaustion."
Luca looked at her, his voice unusually calm, with a mixture of firmness and compassion:
"No, it's not your fault. He has a disorder."
Then he added, gently running his fingers through Maldo's hair,
"Don't worry, Daniel... I've eased his pain a little. I'll take him to his room now."
Daniel stood up slowly, closed his book without realising which page he had stopped at, and said as he picked up his phone from the table:
"Yes... Take him, and I'll call Dr. Giulio right away."
As Luca headed towards the corridor, Daniel watched his steps silently.
He gently laid Maldo on the bed and pulled the blanket up to his shoulders.
He smiled slightly and whispered, as if scolding him affectionately:
"You leave for a few seconds and come back with problems... You really are a child."
Sally sat at the edge of the bed, her hands clasped in her lap, her eyes never leaving her little friend's face.
Luca laughed softly, the kind of laugh that lightens the mood without completely dispelling it, and said as he watched her:
"Are you going to stay here?"
She nodded, whispering, "I have to take care of him."
He stood for a moment, looking at her, at the light that was beginning to spill over the edges of the bed.
He glanced again at Maldo, that look that carried something mysterious in its depths... and also knowledge.
As a single thought flowed through his mind:
—— "It seems that the war of memories has begun."
He turned his face towards the door and left the room with light steps, as if bored.
Maldo began to ache slightly, even as he was deep in sleep.
His breathing was irregular, his forehead furrowed as if he were seeing something invisible.
Sally noticed this.
She hesitated for a moment, then reached out her small hand towards him,
her fingers touching the blanket over his chest with an almost imperceptible lightness.
Then she began to sing.
Her voice came out faintly at first, as if she were afraid of waking him,
Then gradually grew into a warm hum, a melody she did not know completely, but it seemed as if it had been created just to reassure him.
Little by little, a sense of calm began to spread across his features, the slight tension in his face receded, and the discomfort that had inhabited his features disappeared.
His breathing relaxed.
It was as if the sound had penetrated something inside him that no one had ever reached before.
Sally continued to sing, the dim light from the window touching her hair.
She sang only for him, until time seemed to pass little by little,
as if the room were separated from the noise of the world outside.
Doctor Giulio came and examined Maldo, then shook his head softly, unable to find an explanation for his condition.
He left with a promise to return, and silence filled the room.
The hours passed slowly, as if the hands of the clock were tired of turning.
The sun began to sink behind the horizon, pulling the last rays of light with it and leaving the room in a violet twilight.
Suddenly, Maldo's eyelids moved.
They fluttered first... then opened to a blurry scene, and the first thing he saw was Sally.
She was sitting next to him, her smile trembling with a mixture of joy and anxiety, as if she didn't know which should prevail.
The first thing Sally did when she saw his eyes open
was to throw herself into his arms without hesitation,
as if she feared he would disappear if she didn't touch him immediately.
"You're awake!" she said in a hoarse voice filled with surprise and joy.
"Ouch..." muttered Maldo, his eyes half open,
his voice tired but carrying a faint smile,
"Sally... I think you broke my rib."
She quickly raised her head and looked at him with a slightly funny look of concern.
"Oh! Sorry!"
Then she suddenly turned towards the door, her eyes shining with unconcealed joy, and raised her voice in a tremulous cry of excitement:
"Uncle Daniel! Luca! Maldo, wake up!"
Her voice echoed throughout the small flat, as if her call had brought the whole place back to life. No sooner had she finished speaking than rapid footsteps could be heard approaching the corridor.
Daniel entered first, his face still clouded with the worry that had been there since morning.
"Maldo? Are you all right?"
He quickly approached and placed his hand on the boy's forehead to make sure he was still warm.
Luca followed him with his usual calm, standing in the corner of the room leaning against the wall,
His eyes were watching the scene with mysterious silence, a sarcastic smile on his face.
Maldo blinked slowly, looking as if he had awakened from a long dream he did not yet understand.
His voice came out faint, slightly hoarse:
"I'm... fine, I think."
Sally laughed softly, as if she had only heard the last word.
"You've been asleep for a long time!" she said, holding his hand with childlike caution.
"I can see that..." he replied, looking out the window,
His eyes followed the threads of light that filtered through the curtains.
Daniel took a step closer, his voice carrying a mixture of concern and curiosity:
"What happened? Tell me, Maldo."
After hearing the question, Maldo's gaze froze at the corners of the room, as if he were searching for an answer he did not want to find.
That's right... I lost my mind after hearing that name.
His mind paused for a moment, as if the name itself carried something mysterious that refused to be revealed.
Logi...
He trembled inside with a vague feeling he couldn't explain.
He finally raised his head and said in a low, hesitant voice:
"I think it's... just a headache."
He looked away from them, as if the conversation was over, but his thoughts did not calm down. Instead, they became deeper and more tangled.
No... not now. I'll keep quiet about it... until the picture is completely clear.
There was a moment of silence, broken only by Daniel's voice,
His tone was hesitant, carrying a hint of doubt:
"Are you sure?"
He nodded briefly, silently, clinging to his opinion as if he had made a decision he did not want to go back on.
"Hmm... All right, then."
Daniel said with a slight smile that carried an unmistakable hint of cunning.
Then he added in a calm tone that seemed reassuring on the surface but concealed something else entirely:
"Try to relax."
He took two steps back and glanced at him briefly before turning towards the door.
At that moment, Maldo knew that Daniel, despite his smile, did not believe a single word he had said.
As soon as Daniel left, there was a brief moment of silence...
Then a low laugh came from the other side of the room.
"You're an idiot..." said Luca as he headed for the door,
a mocking smile on his lips, his eyes sparkling with sly sarcasm.
"But you're also smart."
He said it in a tone that was impossible to tell whether it was praise or sarcasm,
Then left behind Daniel, leaving the door swinging behind him like the last echo of his words.
Sally and Maldo stared at the door for a moment after they left,
as if the silence they left behind carried the echo of their last words.
Sally broke the reverie with a faint, hesitant voice:
"Why did he say that?"
Maldo replied, exhaling slowly,
"Leave him alone."
Then he tried to get up, but as soon as he lifted his head slightly, he felt a slight tingling sensation squeezing the side of his skull,
So he leaned back on the pillow, his features contorted in silent pain.
"It still... hurts," he muttered, placing his hand on his head,
while the look of concern in Sally's eyes deepened,
as if she feared the pain was deeper than he was showing.
"Your pain... is it like last time?"
She asked in a low voice, her hands clasped nervously over her knees.
Maldo closed his eyes for a moment, then said hoarsely,
"No... a little less."
He opened his eyes again, his gaze wandering between the ceiling and the window,
as if he could see something she couldn't.
After a moment, he whispered:
"Could you... close the window?"
Sally nodded and turned towards it, reaching out to close the window,
but her fingers stopped in mid-air as if she had lost her balance for a moment or forgotten what she was doing.
She frowned slightly, tried again, and this time touched the window and closed it quietly.
Maldo watched her silently, saying nothing,
but a shadow of concern passed through his eyes without his permission.
He knew that these small moments of distraction were not coincidental... but rather the effect of the disease that was silently consuming her,
as the doctor had said.
Sally fidgeted with her hands, slightly apprehensive, as if trying to distract herself from the confusion she had felt a moment ago.
Her gaze wandered for a moment, then returned to Maldo, who was watching her with heavy silence.
Then he forced himself to sit down, despite the pain that pricked his head like hidden needles,
and said in a low voice that carried a hint of caution:
"Sally... Can I ask you something else?"
"What is it?" she said, moving from her place, then sitting down next to him again.
Maldo smiled faintly, reached out to gently take her hand, and said in a tone that was both serious and playful:
"Don't run like a madwoman in the street again... And if you do, at least tell me, I'll run like a madman with you."
Then he looked at her for a long time, his voice softening to a whisper:
"Have you forgotten that I promised to help you look for your mother? ... So let me share this with you, no matter how difficult the road may be."
Her lips trembled with a slight smile, and her eyes filled with a warm sparkle that almost turned into tears.
She said in a hoarse voice, trying to hide its tremor:
"You always say things that make my heart get more involved..."
She laughed softly, quickly wiped her tears, then squeezed his hand and said:
"But... thank you, Maldo."
At that moment, he didn't need any more words.
All he wanted... was for this moment to remain as it was — simple, calm, and sincere enough to make him forget everything that had happened before.
Their promise was October...
The month on which they pinned their small hopes, when the days would pass slowly and gently between them, sharing the wait as if sharing the same dream.
Each new morning brought them one step closer to that happy news, and each sunset carried with it a faint promise that this time, the end would not be painful.
They were together, and that alone was enough to make the wait less cruel.
But Sally's body was too weak to endure the long wait.
Despite her ongoing treatment, the disease slowly and silently consumed her, day after day, until her features became paler and her voice quieter than before.
She smiled as if nothing had changed, but behind that smile lay a pain that Maldo knew well — a pain for which there was no cure other than the hope they clung to, however fragile it seemed.
October passed, and the legend they had lived on did not come true... Her mother did not return.
The disappointment was evident on Sally's face in the early days, like a heavy cloud obscuring the sparkle in her eyes.
But despite everything, she clung to another hope... a small, quiet hope, like a candle in a long darkness, that it might come true next October.
Meanwhile, Daniel scoured the city street by street,
entering every hospital and asking every doctor who might offer a glimmer of hope.
But the answers were always the same, delivered in the same weary tone and accompanied by the same pitying looks:
"Her condition is not suitable for surgery... If we perform it, she will not survive."
He heard the sentence as a new stab each time,
until he could no longer distinguish between the doctors' faces or the hospitals,
they all seemed the same to him...
As for Sally, she smiled every time he returned, as if trying to ease his pain rather than her own.
Until the seasons chose to pass: a spring without flowers, a summer without warmth,
and an autumn in which tears fell instead of leaves.
Then came winter... where those tears froze.
The seasons passed slowly, one after the other,
until October returned, not once... but twice.
Two years passed, like two faded pages from a notebook whose story was never finished,
and nothing changed except that there were fewer smiles,
And the silence in the house grew deeper.
On an ancient October evening,
the month that brought them promise... and then left them without it.
The sky was crowded with stars, twinkling silently above a city steeped in silence.
The air carried a slight chill, as if autumn was breathing near the windows,
and everything seemed painfully familiar;
the same road, the small balcony, and the wooden chair that had not moved from its place for two years.
But even though the features had not changed,
This October... was not like any October before.
Sally wrapped herself in a white scarf,
sat on the balcony on a wooden chair, and looked up at the sky where stars scattered across the cold world.