A bubble with three little dots pops up, indicating that she’s typing out a message. A long one, by the looks of it. But then it vanishes.
I furrow my brows, concern twisting deep in my belly, but I wait another minute for her to start typing again.
Only…she doesn’t.
I drag myself out of bed and stumble to the coffee maker while I type out a message.
CHLOE: Everything OK there?
KYLA: Everything’s great. Perfect. Better than perfect.
CHLOE: Liar.
Another minute passes, and her answer finally comes in.
KYLA: It’s just weird being alone. I miss you already.
CHLOE: I know, Ky. Imiss you, too.
I feel the weight of what she’s saying, and not saying, heavy on my heart. I know she probably typed that message out over and over again, trying to put into words how her grief feels now that she’s on her own. But I don’t want to push her to open up more than that if she’s not ready. For now, all I can do is be there for her when, and if, she decides to talk.
Sipping my coffee, I log into my bank account and check the balance. Still nothing. A sigh escapes my lips as I gaze out the window that overlooks a parking lot.
This hotel is close to the airport, which means easy access for travelers, but the view is certainly less than stellar. Today is technically a free day, since my call time isn’t until tomorrow. It would be easy to order a car to take me into Rome and do some exploring. But after Kyla’s messages, the idea of doing it alone isn’t very appealing.
Then I remember Sora, and her confession that she’d never left the country before yesterday. While her nonstop talking—on the plane, off the plane, in the van, up the stairs, down the stairs, and up the stairs again as we lugged suitcases to my room—had been exhausting, her company had actually been pleasant enough. That is, she didn’t annoy me…for the most part.
Deciding to sacrifice my sanity for the comfort of company, I pick up my phone and send her a quick text.
CHLOE: Hey, world traveler. Fancy a trip to the Trevi Fountain today?
I set the phone down to get dressed, but a response comes in almost immediately. I can’t help but smirk.
SORA: YES!!!!!!!!!!!
CHLOE: Meet me in the lobby in half an hour.
“It’s incredible,” Sora breathes, her voice thick with emotion as she studies the faded white limestone of the centuries-old structure in front of us.
The Trevi Fountain’s sunbaked statues lift high out of the shimmering blue water, and the rays reflect sparkling glints of copper beneath the surface. Pennies. Thousands of them. Wishes from every corner of the world.
The fountain towers over a sea of tourists, the crowd undulating as visitors wander off and more arrive to replace them. I’ve never been to the Trevi Fountain when it’s quiet—and while this is busier than I’ve ever experienced, there’s still something magical about the place.
Somethingromantic.
Even if I did just see a couple get scammed into buying a Polaroid photo of their own engagement.
“Do you think any of the wishes have come true?” Sora wonders, still mesmerized by the architecture.
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. The last time I was in Rome I tossed a penny into the fountain—my back turned, with my right hand over my left shoulder as the tradition calls for. But I don’t remember what I wished for, or if it came true. Dad was alive the last time I visited. I imagine that whatever my wish was, it wasn’t heavy, like my wish would be today.
There’s no use throwing a penny in the fountain now, though.
Because I know my wish won’t come true.
“I mean, I’m sure some have,” Sora continues, breaking my train of thought. “It only makes sense, right? But probably not because of the fountain. Just, you know…life doing its thing.”
“‘Life doing its thing’?” I echo, tearing my gaze away from the fountain to give her a sardonic look.
