𝐆𝐈𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐎, a young girl who's never known stability. Raised by a reckless, unstable mother, she spent her childhood caught between drug runs and police raids, ruining her right for a normal childhood. One night when her mother go...
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12 YEARS AGO
"No Marcoo! It needs to be up higher! The birds won't see it," Giulia whined, pointing a finger higher up on the tree.
"Ok, I'm trying," he grunted, wobbling slightly on the wooden step stool. Marco held the little wooden bird house in one hand and a screwdriver in the other. It was slightly crooked, and the paint, along with the glitter from all the tiny, chaotic drawings was still streaky and uneven.
A masterpiece of pink blobs and glitter. But Giulia was proud of it.
The twelve year old boy wiped the sweat off his forehead jumping down from the stool.
"Happy now?" he huffed, faking annoyance, but the smile tugging at his mouth gave him away.
Giulia's eyes lit up the second she saw the birdhouse hanging high in the tree, filled to the brim with birdseed and ringed with little perches Marco had helped her glue on.
She squealed and threw her arms around his waist, squeezing with all the strength a three year old could manage.
"It's perfect!" she said, looking up at him with sparkling eyes. "The birds are gonna love it! They're gonna move in forever!"
Marco crossed his arms. "You don't even know if birds like pink."
"They do. I know they do." she insisted, stomping her little foot in the grass.
He sighed loudly. He bent down, scooped her up with a grunt, and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"Marcooo!" she squealed, kicking her feet in the air, giggling.
"Quiet child," he mumbled. "Or else I'll throw you to Damon."
Giulia gasped, looking around frantically for Damon. "No please!"
Across the yard, Damon and Ace were rolling in the grass like wild animals, wrestling and laughing and shouting something about who cheated first. They'd been at it for the past ten minutes and neither of them showed signs of stopping.
Meanwhile, Luca was halfway up the same tree Marco had been working under, his arms gripping a thick branch as he tried to go higher.
"Luca!" Rafael's voice snapped. He stood below the tree, arms crossed, looking every inch the disapproving fourteen year old he was. "Get down! You're not a monkey!"
Luca grinned at him from below, with that gap toothed smile. "I am today!"
Rafael exhaled, fed up. "Fine, I'm telling Papa!"
"Wait no!" Luca yelped, scrambling to slide back down the tree.
Giulia, still dangling over Marco's shoulder, lifted her head at the familiar word. "Papa?"
