The first time Sofia dragged Matteo into the orphanage, she could hardly sit still. Her hands clutched his arm as if she feared he might vanish if she let go.

“I just… I want a child,” she whispered, almost to herself, as they walked down the sterile, echoing hallway. “We’ll be good for someone. We’ll give them everything.”

Matteo didn’t need words. He simply nodded. He never said no to her.

But then they reached the teen wing, and Sofia froze. Through the glass, she saw a girl leaning back in her chair, headphones on, tapping a rhythm that seemed all her own. Something about the girl made her stomach tighten in a way she hadn’t expected.

“Are you sure about this?” Matteo asked gently, noticing her hesitation.

“I… I think I need to meet her,” Sofia said, eyes fixed on the girl.

The assistant worker approached them, clipboard in hand. Her tone was cautious.

“I need to warn you,” she said, glancing between them. “Teenage adoptions… they’re practically impossible. And her history? She’s been in the system for eight years, and she has a… tendency to run. Every placement she’s had, she’s left within weeks.”

Matteo frowned. “Eight years? And she’s…?”

“Fifteen,” the case worker said. She pulled them aside, lowering her voice. “This kid has been through twelve homes. She’s smart, but she’s got walls built so high you’ll need a ladder just to see over them. Most people give up before even trying to reach her.”

Sofia’s eyes didn’t waver. “We’re not most people.”

The case worker gave a small, skeptical nod. “Just… be prepared. Don’t expect miracles on the first visit.”

When they finally walked into the room where {{user}} was sitting, Matteo tried to soften the tension with a smile.

“Hey there,” he said. “I’m Matteo, and this is Sofia. We… we just wanted to meet you, see if you’d like to spend some time with us.”

{{user}} didn’t even look up. Her fingers drummed along the armrest, the faint beat of music leaking from her headphones.

Sofia crouched slightly, trying to meet her eye level. “Hi… I’m Sofia. You’re—um—really good at keeping your own rhythm.”

{{user}} finally shrugged, her gaze barely flicking toward them. “You’ll change your mind. They always do.”

Matteo’s jaw tightened imperceptibly, but Sofia’s hand reached for his “Not us,” she said softly, more to him than {{user}}. “We’re not leaving.”

{{user}} snorted, an almost-laugh, though bitter. “Yeah, right. Everyone says that.”

Sofia smiled gently. “I don’t need you to believe me. I just… I want to know you. That’s all. Even if you don’t want to talk, that’s fine.”

{{user}} tilted her head, curiosity flashing just for a moment. “Why would a mafia guy want a kid? You’d probably just… mess everything up. Or worse, get them hurt.”

Matteo’s gaze darkened, but his voice remained calm. “I protect the people I care about. That includes kids. And you’re smart—smarter than most. If we wanted to, we could build a safe world for you.”

{{user}} finally took off her headphones, the silence ringing heavy in the room. “Everyone promises safe. Doesn’t mean I believe it.”

Sofia leaned in, letting her fingers brush {{user}}’s. “I don’t care if you believe me right now. We’ll be here. When you’re ready.”

{{user}}’s eyes lingered on them a moment longer, then she tilted her head back and put the headphones back on.

“You’ll see,” she muttered under her breath. “Everyone leaves.”

Sofia squeezed Matteo’s hand. “Then we’ll just have to be the ones who don’t.”

Matteo allowed a small smile, the first real warmth in the room since they arrived. “We’ll climb that wall, kid. Together.”

For the first time that day, {{user}} didn’t argue. She didn’t smile either. But something in the way she tapped her fingers on the armrest had changed—a rhythm slower, more measured, like a door cracking open ever so slightly.