Milan — Resistance basement
The plan to retake the squares was already in motion.
Messengers hurried out by the dozens, spreading flyers, maps, and whispered instructions.
Vera sat in a dark corner of the shelter, organizing escape routes and rendezvous points.
It was then that Enzo approached, his forehead slick with sweat, his eyes filled with unusual unrest.
"We need to talk," he said in a low voice.
Vera looked up, instantly alert.
Enzo pulled her aside, away from curious ears.
"This morning, one of ours returned from a rescue mission," he whispered. "He found a group of freed prisoners... and among them, someone spoke of a journalist. A man who refused to break, even after weeks of torture."
Vera felt her heart skip a beat.
"What do you mean?" she asked, trying to stay composed.
"They said he's still alive. That the captors are keeping him in a secret location, away from the common prisoner camps." Enzo hesitated. "They didn't say a name. But... the way they described him... it sounded like him."
Luca.
The name thundered silently within her.
Vera closed her eyes for a moment.
She couldn't afford to get her hopes up.
She couldn't afford to weaken.
But she couldn't ignore that flicker of hope either.
"We have to confirm it," she said, her voice firm as stone.
Enzo nodded.
"I'm already trying to track down more information."
Vera pressed her fist against her chest, as if trying to hold her heart in place.
If Luca was alive...
Nothing, absolutely nothing, would stop them from winning.