Aaliyah's recovery was slow, fragile, and unpredictable, but every day brought a small spark that hadn't been there the day before. The nurses noticed it first—her fingers responding more, her breathing stabilizing, her eyes opening for longer periods. Damiano was afraid to hope, but he couldn't help it. Every tiny sign felt like a miracle after everything they had survived.
Meanwhile, Estrella finally received her first fully stable diagnosis.
"Out of danger," the neonatologist repeated twice, as if emphasizing it would make it more real. Damiano cried quietly, head in his hands, as relief finally loosened the weight that had been crushing him for weeks.
But not everything was simple. A Japanese specialist sat with the family, his expression serious.
Doctor Saitō: "Aaliyah's stress levels over the last months left internal sequelae. Nothing impossible to manage, but you must be extremely careful. Her body remembers the trauma."
Damiano nodded, his jaw tight, as if memorizing every instruction.
He had made a promise to protect her and Estrella—and Japan was their quiet rebirth.
He began shaping a new routine for the three of them. Early morning visits to the NICU, long afternoons reading aloud to Aaliyah, late nights planning how to build a life without the noise of the past.
For the first time in months, there was peace… a delicate, breakable peace, but peace nonetheless.
Winona, however, wasn't resting. While reviewing old files sent from the U.S., she found a medical document so old it looked nearly forgotten—something that explained why Aaliyah's pregnancy had been so critical.
A diagnosis that had never been addressed properly.
One that could change everything.
But she kept it close until she understood it fully.
Maneskin, surprisingly, adapted to Japan like fish to water.
Within days, locals were filming them walking down the streets, posting clips online, and calling them "the mysterious Italian band living among us."
The group was going viral again—this time for all the right reasons.
But danger always had a way of finding cracks.
A Japanese journalist—young, ambitious, too curious for his own good—found a lead on where the family was staying. He approached the neighborhood with a camera hidden in his jacket, looking for the story of the century.
He didn't get far.
Dylan blocked his path before he even reached the correct street.
Dylan: "Turn around."
Journalist: "I just want—"
Dylan: "No. You don't want what happens next."
The journalist froze under the man's stare.
The message was clear.
He backed away.
Inside the NICU, Aaliyah had her first deep moment with Estrella.
Her hands trembled as she placed them on the incubator's glass.
Aaliyah: "Hi, my love… I'm here. I didn't get to hold you yet, but I promise I will. You fought harder than anyone… you're so strong."
Estrella's tiny fingers twitched, as if responding.
Aaliyah's tears fell instantly.
The world outside?
They still believed Aaliyah was barely conscious, still fighting for life.
What they didn't know—
what no one knew—
was that something massive was about to shift.
Something that would shake every country watching their story unfold.
Aaliyah was returning.
And this time, she wasn't coming back quietly.