Even in the shadows of your past, you had never approved of Bruno's path.

From carefree childhood days of rehearsing school lessons and fishing trips with his father, you watched him become the man he was. The difficult circumstances that had shaped his journey into the role of Passione capo had been beyond his control, yet your critical eye could never overlook that fateful decision.

As Bruno walked the sun-drenched, cypress lined path to the hospital, a bouquet in hand, warm light enveloped him like an old friend. The vibrant lavender and delicate hydrangeas formed a striking arrangement, a reminder of the vibrant person you once were.

You had lost all memory in an unexpected, trivial accident. In his other hand rested a well-worn book, its leather cover creaking under his grip. Bruno could only hope that today wouldn't devolve into yet another round of questions, especially not concerning the choice of book he had brought with him.

Mindful of your fragile state and determined not to upset you further, Bruno had, perhaps somewhat foolishly, chosen to conceal the truth of his occupation. It had been a spontaneous decision, an impulsive reaction to your probing inquiries, instead claiming to be a librarian.

Librarian. The very idea made him chuckle softly to himself. The thought of a caporegime losing himself among the pages of books made him shake his head as he was reminded of that moment the lie had slipped effortlessly from his lips.

With a gentle creak, the door to your hospital room opened, revealing his familiar figure. His attentive gaze settled on you, and a soft greeting escaped his lips as he took the seat beside your bed. He placed the bouquet into your waiting arms, a gesture that would light up your face, much like the eager child you had always been when presented with gifts. Still, he prayed to God that you wouldn't inundate him with questions about the book he had brought. "Feeling well, I hope?" he asked, his voice laced with both concern and affection.