Men down.
The words send ice through my veins.
How many?
Who?
Is Dante one of them?
My hand hovers by my mouth and Marta's arm comes around my shoulder.
"Please," I whisper, too quietly for anyone to hear. "Please let him be okay."
"It's okay, child," Marta whispers, but I know she has no clue if it really is okay.
I can see the fear in her eyes too.
The gunfire above us intensifies.
I can hear it more clearly now, closer than before.
The guards move to either side of the door and ready their weapons, and I cower back with them, Marta still joined to me at the shoulder.
"Stay back," one of them orders.
Marta and I retreat to the far corner of the room, pressing back against the concrete wall.
Minutes crawl past and the gunfire continues.
I'm crying now, finally letting my tears out because Sofia is sleeping and I don't have to be strong.
Marta pushes a tissue from her pocket into my hand and then, suddenly, the gunfire stops.
I hold my breath, straining to hear anything.
Footsteps.
Voices.
Some sign of what's happening above us.
But I hear nothing.
The guards don't move.
They stay frozen by the door with their weapons still raised.
"What does that mean?" I ask, but no one answers.
Marta crosses herself again, her lips moving in another silent prayer.
I want to pray too, but I don't know what to say.
I don't know what to ask for.
"Just bring him back. Bring Dante back to us," I whisper to anyone out there who might be listening, because if there is a god, Dante might just need his help.
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