One evening,
When the air outside the barracks carried a rare softness,
And sunlight filtered through the tall perimeter walls, warming the concrete paths that were usually cold and unwelcoming. Soldiers lounged in scattered clusters, some smoking, some laughing quietly, some simply staring into the distance as if the sky might offer answers duty never did.
That evening,
Isabella sat on a low bench near the infirmary exit, a paper cup of tea warming her hands.
Xavier stood a few steps away, leaning against the wall, his injured arm still secured but healing well. This—this small stretch of fresh air—had become part of his routine. And without discussion, part of hers too.
They weren't speaking.
They didn't need to.
The silence between them had grown familiar, almost gentle. Not the awkward kind, but the kind that existed when two people shared space without demanding anything from it.
Xavier broke it first.
"You always sit like that," he said.
She glanced at him. "Like what?"
"Like you're listening to something far away."
Isabella gave a faint smile. "Old habit."
Before he could ask more, her phone vibrated in her pocket.
She frowned slightly.
Few people called her anymore.
She stepped aside and answered. "Hello?"
"Isabella!"
Andrea's voice burst through the line, bright and full and unmistakably alive.
Her entire posture softened.
"Andrea," she said, warmth flooding her tone before she could stop it. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," he laughed. "Relax. For once."
She smiled. "Then why do I feel like you're about to drop a bomb?"
"Well," he said cheerfully, "the whole family is coming over this weekend."
Isabella stopped walking.
"…What?"
"Mama, Papa, me," Andrea continued. "We thought it's time. You've been away too long. We want to see where you live. Where you work. Everything."
Her heart leapt—and then immediately sank.
"This weekend?" she asked carefully.
"Yes. So you should prepare a place for us."
She swallowed. "Andrea—"
"We're proud of you," he added, softer now. "We want to be there. And also, I kinda need a job at the IT department"
Isabella closed her eyes.
"I don't really have space," she said gently. "The barracks housing—"
"We'll manage," Andrea said quickly. "We always do, remember?"
She exhaled slowly.
"…Okay," she said at last. "I'll prepare something."
Andrea laughed again. "Knew you would. See you soon, Nurse Rossi."
The line went dead.
Isabella stared at her phone long after the screen went dark.
The whole family.
Here.
Inside these walls.
Inside this life.
And dangerously close to him.
---
"You look like someone just rearranged your future," Xavier said quietly from behind her.
She turned.
He was watching her—not casually, not curiously—but with something sharper.
"My family is visiting," she said.
"Oh," he replied. "That's… good."
"Yes," she said. "It is."
There was a pause.
"You don't sound convinced."
She met his eyes. "Some lives don't mix easily."
Xavier studied her for a moment. "You talk like someone who's spent years keeping worlds apart."
Her jaw tightened.
"I have," she said.
---
They walked back toward the building together.
Neither of them mentioned the weekend again.
But both of them felt it—
A shift.
A convergence.
Because Isabella's family coming meant questions.
Roots.
Truths.
And Xavier—
Xavier had been circling the truth without knowing its shape.
Inside the barracks, Room Four waited.
Inside Isabella, something old and fragile braced itself.
And far away, unseen and uninvited, the shadow of the past stirred.
Because when families arrived—
So did history.
And this time, it was walking straight through the gates.