Matteo felt his heart pound violently against his ribs as he shouted their names, his voice echoing uselessly through the square, because they did not slow or hesitate, and when they reached the elderly woman with silver hair and worn clothing, they ran straight into her open arms as if that was exactly where they had always belonged.
“Grandma,” they called together, their voices bright with certainty and joy.
The word struck Matteo with such force that he stopped walking altogether, his mind struggling to grasp what his eyes were showing him, because his daughters had been diagnosed as blind from infancy, their world shaped by sound and touch alone, and yet they stood now pressed against a stranger, faces lifted, eyes focused, breathing in her presence with calm recognition.
The woman wrapped her arms around them with a tenderness that made something deep inside Matteo twist painfully, and when he finally reached them, his voice came out sharper than he intended as fear and disbelief fought for control.
“Please step away from my children,” he said, forcing steadiness into his tone. “Who are you.”