The next day is much the same.
And the next.
Each day I change her dressing, make her food, give hervarious pills, then we watch films to pass the time.
Dante has stepped up in my absence, commanding our men, keeping the businesses running smoothly. Without him and Papa’s support I don’t know where I’d be.
After a week, Izzy is growing frustrated at not being allowed to wash properly. I’ve been helping her sponge bathe, just to keep her hygienic but nothing that could get the wound wet.
While Izzy’s asleep I call Doctor Morgan’s number. I dug into her when she stumbled upon one of Carina’s crime scenes. I needed dirt on her in case she ever betrayed us. All I found was that her girlfriend had a record. Not that I think she knew that. Luckily, it’s never been needed.
The phone rings a few times before it connects.
“Hello?” she answers, suspicion in her tone.
“Is this Doctor Emily Morgan?”
There’s a moment of hesitation.
“This is she.”
“It’s Enzo… Lorenzo Russo.”
Silence.
“I… Okay. Um… What can I… Um… What can I do for you?” She stumbles over her words. Can’t really blame her, given our last interaction.
“I need a favor.”
“A favor?” She sounds incredulous.
“Therapy.”
I swear she laughs, but it’s too quiet to hear properly. “For yourself?”
“No. My girl.”
“Right. Okay. Where are you? I’m no longer in Italy, I’m at a practice in London.”
“Can you do video? We’re in New York.”
More silence.
“Right. I can probably work something out. I assume this would be off record?”
Smart girl.
“That would be preferable.”
“Okay. Okay. I can do Tuesday evenings at 7p.m.? What’s that for you guys?”
I do the mental math.
“2p.m.”
“Does that work?”
It’s Tuesday already, so that gives another week. “Yes.”
