Freed

Freed
Serena

“The court finds Serena Romano free of all the—”

The rest of the words faded into a blur. My ears were ringing. My head felt light and heavy at the same time. I sat there, frozen in my chair, as the judge read the verdict that should have made me happy. Not guilty. Innocent. Free from all charges. The world should have opened for me in that moment, but instead, I felt like I was drowning again.

Months behind closed doors had changed something inside me. I had gone there searching for justice, for truth, for someone to hear my voice. But I came out knowing that some wounds would never heal, no matter what the court said. I would never get back what I lost.

I slowly turned my head. Behind me, Nico was sitting stiffly, hands clasped, jaw tight. But when I met his eyes, he softened. He lifted his hand slightly and gestured for me to breathe. So I inhaled. Then exhaled. And somehow, the air reached my lungs.

I was free.

At least in the eyes of the law.

From Sara’s side, not a single person was there. Not Julius. Not any of the Moretti family. They had used Sara when she lived, and they used me when she died. Weak women were tools to them, nothing more. And suddenly a thought struck me.

Did Julius use Sara just to push me away from the Moretti family? To remove me from his path? To make sure I didn’t stand between him and the position he wanted as heir?

I let out a bitter laugh. How would I even explain to Julius Moretti that I never wanted anything from their family? Not their money. Not their name. And definitely not their crown. Neither did my children. We never asked for any of it.

When trouble came, the Morettis didn’t even look at me. They let me rot. They washed their hands clean.

But the Romanos… they held on. They didn’t abandon me. Sometimes bad times don’t just show you who your family is, they show you who your family never was.

The truth was, my mother never truly raised me. She left me and Lucia in Italy most of our childhoods, in the hands of nannies. We were luggage to her, not daughters. It wasn’t surprising that she wasn’t here either. As for my father, his world revolved around Julius always. Nothing shocing once again.

Nico touched my hand gently. “We are going home,” he said quietly.

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“Don’t look at anything outside. Don’t listen to anything. We’re going home,” he repeated, firmer this time.

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll explain later,” he said. “Just stay with me.”

I didn’t understand what he was trying to protect me from. But I nodded anyway.

“Yes… okay. We are going home.”

He slipped sunglasses onto my face as we neared the exit. I frowned at him.

“It’s not even that bright,” I whispered.

But the moment the door opened, I understood.

The air outside wasn’t sunlight.

It was chaos.

Dozens of reporters, cameras flashing like lightning. Microphones shoved forward like weapons. People screaming. Crowds are pushing against the barricades. It felt like the world had been waiting just to tear into me. And then something hard smacked against the side of my head. I touched my hair and my fingers came back covered in mush.

A rotten tomato.

Before the shock faded, something else hit my shoulder.

An egg.

“Serena Romano! Why did the police free you?”

“You murderer!”

“You killed Sara Moretti!”

“The court freed you, but you still have blood on your hands!”

“Mrs Romano, what do you say to the public opinion?”

“Did you kill her? Answer us!”

“Why did your birth family disown you if you’re innocent?”

“How does it feel to orphan two children?”

“She deserves to rot in hell!” someone screamed from the back.

My guards rushed to shield me as more things were thrown—bottles, tomatoes, paper, whatever people could find. The noise was so loud I couldn’t hear my own breathing. Or maybe I wasn’t breathing at all.

Tears didn’t come. They were stuck somewhere deep inside me. All I felt was a cold, heavy emptiness spreading through my chest.

Was this what I was now?

A murderer in the eyes of the world.

Even if the court believed me, the public didn’t. They already made up their minds. No matter what I said, what the truth was, it would never be “not guilty” to them.

Would my children grow up hearing lies about their mother?

Would Lucia think I am a killer?

I couldn’t breathe. My stomach twisted. My head spun.

“Serena!” Nico’s voice broke through the shouting, warm and desperate. He held my shoulders. “Hey, hey—look at me. You cannot give up. They don’t matter. They’re just here to sell headlines. Don’t listen to them.”

His voice was shaking. “I know who you are. I know you’re an angel.”

But I couldn’t hear him anymore.

My knees gave out. The world tilted. Everything turned black around the edges.

I didn’t even feel the moment my body fell, just the rush of darkness pulling me down.

Nico caught me before I hit the ground.

When I opened my eyes again, everything was too quiet.

I was lying on the bed in the Romano house, our room. But it didn’t feel like home. It felt like the prison cell I had lived in for months.

The walls were closing in. My chest was tight. My arms felt heavy.

“Serena,” Nico’s voice came from beside me, soft and terrified. “Baby, I’m here.”

But I couldn’t open my eyes.

I didn’t want to.

Because opening them meant facing this world again.

Facing those voices. Those accusations. That hate.

“Serena…” another voice whispered.

Lucia.

My sister.

My heart twisted painfully.

I didn’t want her to see me like this.

I didn’t want anyone to.

“Go away,” I whispered.

They didn’t move.

“Go away!” I screamed, choking on my own breath. “Everyone go!”

I didn’t know why I was screaming or what was happening to me. All I knew was that the pain inside me was too much. Too sharp. Too deep. I couldn’t hold it. I didn’t want them to see me breaking.

“Go!” I sobbed. “Just go…”

I covered my face with my hands.

I couldn’t face them.

I couldn’t face myself.

Everything hurt.

Everything.

And I didn’t know how much more of it I could take.
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Author Note: I hope, you all are able to relate with Serena's pain.