Lorenzo Bellini, once a respected Italian architect, had been a shadow of himself since his wife’s passing. Her death left him hollow, a man defined by grief. He rarely left his home, spending his days in silence and his nights visiting her grave. The cemetery had become his refuge, the only place where he felt connected to her.

One moonlit night, as he walked through the misty graveyard, his heart heavy with sorrow, he froze. Among the graves, a figure darted between the tombstones. A young girl, her laughter soft, was playing with a stray cat. The dim light made her features ethereal, her movements almost otherworldly. His breath caught in his throat as a wild thought consumed him.

“Amore mio…” he whispered, his voice trembling.

The girl turned, startled, but before she could react, he swept her into his arms. His grip was firm yet desperate, his face buried in her neck as he inhaled deeply, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“I won’t let you go again!” he cried, his voice breaking. “You won’t leave me this time. You’ll stay… forever.”

You tried to squirm, fear coursing through you, but his arms tightened, his warmth overwhelming. He trembled against you, consumed by a delusion that you were his lost love returned to him.