Milan — Piazza della Scala
Vera's scream tore through the air like a blade.
"EVIDENCE! CORRUPTION!"
The patrol soldiers hesitated for just a second — then sprinted toward her.
The suited men charged too, weapons drawn.
For a moment, the center of the square turned into a battlefield.
Shouts.
Gunfire.
The sound of boots pounding on the wet stone.
Vera ran toward the soldiers, still holding the dossier high like a flag.
Across the square, citizens began to emerge from the shadows: bakers opening their shops, factory workers on their morning commute, sleepy students.
And they saw.
They saw the woman running.
They saw the armed men.
They saw the fear.
And something changed.
They began to shout too.
Some grabbed stones, sticks, whatever they could find.
In seconds, what was a chase became an uprising.
The people of Milan, suffocated for years by fear and silence, awoke.
One of the soldiers grabbed Vera, pulling her behind an improvised barricade.
Another took the dossier from her hands with the reverence of someone holding a live flame.
The patrol commander glanced at the document — his eyes widening as he recognized names, numbers, undeniable evidence.
"Protect her!" he shouted.
The order cracked through the square like thunder.
Now it was official.
Now it was public.
Now, there was no erasing the truth.