Chapter 3 - The Cold Alley
The bitter wind howled aggressively down the narrow brick alleyway, biting sharply through the thin fabric of Salvatore's worn coat.
He found a relatively dry spot beneath a rusted fire escape, shielding his sleeping daughter from the falling snow with his own body.
He gently set the white bakery box down on a discarded wooden pallet, refusing to let the night end without honoring his beloved Rosa.
The heavy steel door of the restaurant's kitchen suddenly creaked open, spilling a warm, golden rectangle of light out onto the icy pavement.
Maria, the young waitress from the lobby, quickly slipped out into the freezing alley with a thick woolen blanket draped over her arm.
She was carrying a heavy plastic milk crate and two steaming styrofoam cups of rich hot chocolate.
"I am so incredibly sorry about how my manager treated you," she whispered softly, her teeth chattering in the bitter cold.
Salvatore watched with quiet gratitude as she flipped the milk crate upside down to create a makeshift table.
She draped the blanket over Salvatore's shoulders, ensuring it wrapped securely around the sleeping little girl in his arms.
"You have a very kind heart, Maria," Salvatore said gently, reading the shiny brass name tag pinned to her uniform apron.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a silver lighter, and carefully sparked the single white candle sitting atop the chocolate sponge cake.
The small, flickering flame illuminated the dark alley, casting warm shadows against the icy brick walls.
For a fleeting, beautiful moment, the harsh cruelty of the world faded away into the soft glow of the birthday candle.
Giana stirred slightly against his chest, her small nose twitching as the sweet scent of vanilla cream reached her.
Salvatore smiled, preparing to wake her so they could whisper a quiet, secret wish for her mother up in heaven.
But before he could speak a word, the deafening screech of heavy rubber tires violently shattered the peaceful silence of the night.
Three massive, black SUVs aggressively swerved into the narrow alleyway, their high-beam headlights blindingly bright against the falling snow.
The heavy vehicles formed an impenetrable wall of steel, completely blocking the only exit leading back to the main street.
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The rumbling engines idled menacingly, vibrating the loose gravel beneath Salvatore's worn boots.
Four heavy doors swung open simultaneously, and the distinct, terrifying metallic clack of assault rifles being chambered echoed through the freezing air.
