Celia stood in the quiet living room for a moment longer, unsure of what to say. His grandfather hadn't spoken since he walked in. He had simply sat down, fingers slowly moving over his beard, eyes fixed on his grandson.
From the way the old man was looking at him, Celia could tell there were many things he wanted to ask.
Nonno Enzo let out a heavy sigh. Ever since that day, he hadn't been the same. He was grateful his grandson was still alive… but the cost of that survival weighed on him more than he could say.
"How…" He paused, his voice rough. "How is everything going there, Celia?"
Celia sat down on the old cushion — the same one he had planned to replace before Christmas if he managed to save enough money — and forced a small smile.
"Everything is fine, Nonno. I'm safe. They've been treating me well… for now."
