The hospital lights were too bright, too white, too cold for what was happening.
Aaliyah barely had time to process the sharp abdominal pain before nurses rushed her back into a private room. Her hands trembled, one clutching her stomach, the other holding the rails of the stretcher as they wheeled her down the corridor.
"Breathe, signora," a nurse pleaded, but Aaliyah's breaths were shallow, panicked.
Estrella was missing.
And now her baby—the one she had barely begun to accept—might be in danger too.
Damiano ran beside the stretcher, his voice breaking.
"Aaliyah, amore, I'm here—stay with me. They're going to take care of you. I won't leave, I swear."
But the second he reached for her hand, a doctor stepped between them.
"Signor—please, you need to let us work."
Damiano froze, torn in half.
His daughter was missing.
His partner was in pain.
And he couldn't be in two places at once.
Aaliyah looked at him, eyes wet, terrified.
"Find her… Damiano, please. Don't let anything happen to her."
Her voice cracked. And that was enough.
He kissed her forehead, shaky and desperate.
"I'll bring her home," he whispered.
"Nothing will happen to her. I swear on my life."
The door shut behind her.
And Damiano turned to face the nightmare outside.
THE SEARCH BEGINS
Victoria was already in the hallway, pacing like a general preparing for war. She held Estrella's backpack open, papers spread out, eyes sharp.
"Finally!" she snapped when she saw Damiano. "We need you out there. The police want you to give the official description."
"I'm going," he said, voice low, dark, determined. "Tell me everything."
Victoria pointed to a small folded paper she had found inside Estrella's backpack. It was old, worn, with water stains.
A hospital stamp. A date.
Something connected to Estrella's birth.
"We're following this," she said. "Thomas took the original and left already—he thinks he knows where she went."
Damiano's heart dropped.
"Why would she go there?"
Victoria swallowed. "Because she overheard something before she disappeared. Something about the day she was born."
Damiano's chest tightened.
No. Not now. Not like this.
Before he could say anything else, two police officers approached.
"Signor David. We need to begin a formal search. Time is critical."
Damiano nodded, jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
"Lead the way."
THOMAS FOLLOWING THE CLUE
Thomas ran through the streets of Rome like the city belonged to him. He clutched the clue Victoria found—the copy of the hospital paper—his breath turning into sharp puffs in the cold night air.
He kept hearing Estrella's voice replay in his mind from earlier that week:
"Sometimes I feel like I wasn't supposed to exist… like I was a mistake no one wants to explain."
He hadn't understood then.
He understood now.
The paper…
The date…
The address…
He reached an old maternity clinic—abandoned years ago, the windows cracked, the paint peeling. The same exact place where Estrella had been born.
His stomach dropped.
"Estrella…" he whispered.
As he took a step toward the door, something on the ground glinted under the streetlight.
He froze.
There, in the dirt, was Estrella's bracelet—the one she wore every single day.
He crouched, hands shaking, and picked it up.
"Dios mío…"
His throat closed.
"She was here."
He pulled out his phone with trembling fingers.
BACK IN THE HOSPITAL
Aaliyah lay in bed, breathing carefully as the doctor monitored her.
"The baby is stable for now," the doctor said gently. "But you must stay calm. Any more stress could be dangerous."
Calm.
When her daughter was missing.
When Damiano wasn't here.
When Ethan was somewhere in the hospital.
When the entire world was falling apart.
Tears slipped silently from her eyes.
Then her phone vibrated weakly on the bedside table.
She reached for it with trembling fingers.
Incoming call: Thomas.
Her heart dropped into her stomach.
CLIFFHANGER
Thomas's voice came through the phone—breathless, scared, breaking:
"Aaliyah… I found Estrella's bracelet. She was here. I think— I think she's still close."
Aaliyah's world spun.
"Thomas—where are you?" she whispered.
But before he could answer—
A loud noise echoed through the line.
A crash.
A gasp.
Then—
Silence.
"A–Thomas? Thomas!? ANSWER ME!"
She sat up in bed despite the pain.
But the line was dead.