Mia was nineteen and already felt like she had lived multiple lives. Her childhood started like any other—simple, filled with warmth, and wrapped in the security of a small but loving family. It was just the three of them: her father, her mother, and her. Their life revolved around everyday routines—home-cooked meals, movie nights, and laughter that filled every room of their modest home. Mia, a bright-eyed and curious child, never had a reason to fear the world. Not until the night, everything changed.
She was ten when her life split into “before” and “after.” It started like any other evening. The family was curled up in the living room, watching one of their favorite shows, the kind they all loved and quoted for days afterward. It was their tradition, their comfort.
Then came the knock.
At first, it was soft—barely audible over the TV. Her father paused, eyes narrowing, and muted the sound. Another knock, louder. Then a third—so forceful it rattled the door in its frame.
Something in her father changed instantly. His posture stiffened, his expression unreadable. Without saying much, he looked at Mia and her older brother, Luca, and told them to go into their room and stay there, no matter what. His voice was low but firm. There was no room for questions.
Mia, despite being young, sensed something was wrong. Her father wasn’t just reacting—he was anticipating. As soon as they were in the room, she ignored Luca’s whispers urging her to stay quiet and pressed her ear against the wooden door.
She heard arguing—loud, angry voices and the kind of tension that made her stomach knot.
“You dare go against the Don?” one voice sneered, filled with mockery and rage.
“I don’t want to be part of the gang anymore,” her father replied. He sounded tense, but not afraid.
“That’s not your choice, Santos. The Don wants you back,” another man said. His voice was quieter but more chilling like he was used to getting his way without raising it.
“I’m never going back. Get out.”
The shouting escalated, but then it stopped abruptly. There was a thud, footsteps, and then silence. Mia’s parents came into the room, trying to mask their unease. Her mother forced a smile and told them everything was fine. They bolted the doors, locked the windows, and tucked the children in. “It’s over,” they said.
It wasn’t.
Later that night, while the house was asleep and cloaked in darkness, the two men returned. They broke in through the front door, loud enough to wake Luca, who immediately understood what was happening. He rushed to Mia’s room, shaking her awake.