Perhaps it was the clarity that comes before the end, but sleep eluded me that night. My mind drifted back.

I remembered a time before Bianca, when I was the apple of my parents' eye.

But they were busy dealing with a family crisis then, stretched too thin to care for me.

They sent me to live with relatives in Sicily when I was very young.

My mother kissed my cheek, her voice thick with emotion.

"My darling, as soon as Mama settles the Family's blood debts, I promise I'll come back for you."

Draven and I had known each other since childhood.

When we were separated at the age of seven, he cried and said he was going to marry me.

I waited for four years.

When my parents finally returned, they had another girl with them.

She was the child of a fallen ally, whose parents had been killed in a family feud.

My parents had adopted her.

At first, my younger self was overjoyed to have a sister to play games with.

I had truly treated her like my own flesh and blood.

But then came the important Family gathering. I was serving tea to a distinguished guest, just as my mother had instructed.

Suddenly, Bianca "accidentally" bumped my arm.

Scalding tea spilled all over her, and she screamed in pain.

She ran crying into our parents' arms, her body trembling.

"Father, Mother, please don't blame my sister! I know she didn't mean to humiliate me in front of our guests! Please don't be mad at her, it's all my fault for being so clumsy!"

Her words sealed my fate.

All the guests looked at me with contempt.

I demanded to know why she had framed me.

A flicker of a malicious smile touched her lips before she burst into sobs.

"Sister, why did you push me? I just wanted to help with the tea!"

From that day on, in their eyes, I was a traitor to the famiglia.

Another time, on Christmas Eve, I was helping prepare gifts according to family tradition.

Bianca secretly added allergenic nut powder to the pastries I was in charge of.

The son of another Don had a severe allergic reaction, nearly causing a diplomatic disaster.

As punishment, my parents confined me for three days, convinced I was trying to sabotage a family alliance.

Draven and I were childhood sweethearts, our engagement long settled.

From a young age, I had been learning how to best support a mafia heir.

On one occasion, I was entrusted with organizing and safeguarding a secret ledger detailing the family's most important transactions.

Bianca offered to help me organize my study.

She secretly photographed the ledger and leaked its contents to a rival family.

As a result, several of our underground casinos were raided by the police, and we suffered heavy losses.

I had no way to defend myself and became the traitor who had betrayed the Don's trust. The wine cellar always followed.

Over the years, I was no stranger to starvation and punishment. My already frail body grew weaker and weaker.

Then came the diagnosis from my doctor about my kidney dysfunction.

He prescribed me special medication for kidney health.

I took it diligently, every day for half a year.

But my condition didn't improve. In fact, it worsened.

What had been mild kidney dysfunction deteriorated into end-stage renal disease.

Even my own doctor couldn't explain the abnormal progression of the illness.

"Logically, with this medication, your kidney function should have stabilized, or even improved," he told me, bewildered.

It was only much later that I found out the truth.

The "lifesaving medicine" I had been taking so religiously had been replaced with a slow-acting poison designed to destroy my kidneys.

The pills that were supposed to heal me became the catalyst that accelerated my death.

And I had unknowingly ingested them for six months.

When I finally mustered the courage to tell my parents, I was cut off before I could even begin.

"Eleanor, every day it's one problem or another with you. How can someone so weak ever be fit to be an heir's wife?"

Fine. It didn't matter. No one would believe me anyway.

The sharp pain in my kidneys made me curl up on the bed.

To be honest, I could no longer tell if the pain was physical or emotional.

I suddenly longed for the spaghetti my grandfather used to make, a taste no expensive delicacy could ever replace.

But my body was exhausted, and I didn't have enough money for the fare.

Even a trip to his grave had become an impossible wish.

I ordered the cheapest spaghetti from a delivery service.

While I waited, I received a message from Draven.

[Eleanor, if you're hungry, just come back.]

[Give Bianca a proper apology.]

[We were all just angry. If you come back and admit you were wrong, you'll still be my fiancée, the eldest daughter of the Rocci family.]

Perhaps my silence since leaving had unsettled him, because for the first time ever, he was the one reaching out to me.

I wondered, could our decade-long history earn me even a shred of his genuine concern?

I didn't reply to his message.

The doorbell rang. I thought it was my food.

But when I opened the door, Bianca was standing there.

"What a dump," she said, wrinkling her nose as she surveyed the room.

"What are you doing here?" I asked weakly.

"Here to visit my poor, dear sister, of course."

She walked over to the takeout bag by the door and "accidentally" kicked it over.

The sauce spilled across the floor.

"Oops, my apologies," she said with a smirk.

"By the way, I have some good news for you."

She sat down in a chair, crossing her legs.

"I've already canceled your dialysis appointment for you."

"And that priest who was going to help you break off the engagement? He's been defrocked for violating church rules."

"There is no one left to help you."

Hearing this, I finally lost my composure.

"Why would you do all this?"

"Because I hate you. If you have to blame someone, blame yourself for being a jinx. You dragged the priest down with you."

"So you have kidney failure. Big deal. You can scream it to the whole world, but do Mom, Dad, and Draven believe you?"

"If you're going to die, do it somewhere far away. Why do you have to be such an eyesore here!"

Seeing her fly into a rage, I felt nothing.

Instead, I found a calm I didn't know I possessed.

"Sister, I have never done a single thing to harm you. Why are you doing this to me?"

Bianca let out a deeply sarcastic laugh.

It was a long time before she stopped.

"What can I say? An adopted child is never as good as a blood relative."

"No matter how hard they tried to hide it, I could always see their preference for you."

"So I had to find ways to secure my position in this Family."

"What else did you do?" I wanted to hear the answers from her own lips.

"A little 'special' medicine, and I could fake an allergy," Bianca said airily.

"I burned myself. I added the nut powder to the pastries. I stole the secret ledger."

"And your kidney medication? I replaced it all with a poison that attacks the kidneys."

"It took a lot of work to frame you, you know."

"What, are you angry?"

"In the state you're in, about to die, what can you possibly do to me?"

The pain in my body mingled with a cold fury, and I began to tremble.

I tried to get up, but she pushed me back down to the floor.

"Don't get too excited, sister."

"You know, Mom and Dad don't love you anymore."

"They love me. It's always been me."

"And Draven, too. He'll marry me eventually. Once he inherits the Frost family, I'll be the most honored Donna."

"Watching you get weaker day by day has been so much fun."

She kicked me in the ribs before turning to leave, a satisfied smirk on her face.

"Enjoy what little time you have left, dear sister."

The door slammed shut.

I lay on the floor, blood trickling from the corner of my mouth.

In the corner of the room, my old phone was recording.

I dragged my broken body over and stopped the recording.

Then, I opened my email and attached the file.

The recipients were my father, Marco; my mother, Jane; my fiancé, Draven; and his father, the patriarch, Don Frost.

The clock struck midnight. One day left.

I hit "Schedule Send."

With what little strength I had left, I forced myself onward, relying on fragmented memories to find the shop of my grandfather's old friend, the tailor Antonio.

It was tucked away on one of the oldest streets in Little Italy.

Antonio's shop was small, with a few handmade suits hanging in the window.

I pushed the door open, and a bell chimed softly.

It had been a long time. Seeing the state I was in, more a ghost than a person, it took him a moment to recognize me.

I licked my chapped lips and got straight to the point.

"Antonio, I have end-stage renal disease."

"I don't think I'll make it through tomorrow."

"I have one last thing to ask of you," I said, summoning my final reserves of strength. "Can I spend my last moments here?"

"I don't want to die in that cold motel room."

"I've already contacted the crematorium. When I'm gone, just call them for the simplest cremation."

The old man's eyes reddened, his voice trembling. "My dear, foolish child, don't say such things."

"Your grandfather saved my life. That's a debt I can never forget."

He carefully helped me to a small room behind the shop.

"It's not much, but it's warm."

Antonio laid a clean sheet on the bed and lit the fireplace.

The orange flames danced, chasing the chill from the room.

He even went out to buy fresh ingredients and made me a warm vegetable soup.

"This is the old Sicilian recipe. Your grandfather's favorite."

A large bowl of hot soup settled in my stomach, and even the pain in my body seemed to lessen.

The aroma reminded me of my grandfather's embrace when I was a child.

"Slowly, child, drink slowly."

He pulled a white dress from a wardrobe. "This was my granddaughter's favorite."

"But she never got to wear it much."

"You are both so beautiful, so kind."

Antonio sat by my bed, his eyes glistening as he looked at me.

"Eleanor, let me take you to the hospital. I still have some old connections…"

I shook my head weakly, already changing into the dress. "Tell me about her."

"She was a girl who loved to smile."

"She would leave food for the stray cats on the corner and read the newspaper to the old grandmother next door."

"I remember on her tenth birthday, I made her a dress for the first time. It was red."

"She twirled in front of the mirror, saying she was the happiest princess in the world."

I closed my eyes, picturing the girl I had never met.

"Did she have a lot of friends?"

"Of course," Antonio smiled. "Everyone who knew her loved her."

"So many people came to her birthday parties every year, you could hear the laughter all the way down the block."

Listening to him, I felt a warmth I had never experienced, as if I were living those moments myself.

So this is what it felt like to be truly loved.

My consciousness began to fade, but I felt no fear.

Instead, a sense of peace I had never known washed over me.

"Grandpa Antonio," I whispered. "Thank you for showing me that this kind of happiness exists in the world."

The old man held my hand, his voice choked with emotion. "Eleanor, I should be thanking you. You've let me feel the happiness my granddaughter brought me one more time."

"Remember, child, you are loved too."

But I could no longer make a sound.

My breaths grew shallower.

The last time I opened my eyes, I saw Antonio tucking the blankets around me.

Just like my grandfather used to.

In the final moments of my life, what I felt was a long-lost, simple happiness.

I closed my eyes peacefully.

The next morning, the chime of an email notification echoed through Marco Rocci's study.