“So everything is suddenly okay again between us, huh?” I tell Angela peevishly.
She shrugs. “I guess I was wrong. I’m sorry.”
I glance expectantly at Rosa, and she gets the hint. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
She makes her way back down the beach.
“So you got pretty jealous back there,” I tell Angela.
She crosses her arms. “It wasn’t jealousy.”
I study her a moment. “All right.”
“That’s it?” she says. “Only ‘all right.’ So you believe me?”
I grin. “Not really.” I stand. “Come on, let’s get back.”
“Why?” she says, gazing out at the ocean. “It’s kind of nice out here.”
I smile patiently. “Because, I don’t want you to get too used to freedom.”
She sighs. “I see how it is. So nothing has changed between us after all. I was right to run.”
I offer her a helping hand but she doesn’t take it and instead scrambles to her feet on her own.
“This is why you don’t listen at doors,” I tell her as we’re walking back.
She doesn’t answer. She’s still gazing at the sea.
“You know, for a while there, I was thinking I’d run away from everything,” she tells me, her voice sounding distant. “From you. From my father. From Sicily.”
I consider that for a moment. “Do you really think you could do that? Get away from him, I mean.”
She sighs, looking away from the sea. “No.”
She pauses to retrieve her shoes from the sand as we pass the spot where she kicked them off.
We walk in silence for a moment. I listen to the waves running up against the shore. So peaceful, so calming.
“You know, whenever anger and rage get the best of me, I’ll sometimes come out here, and listen to the waves,” I tell her. “Has a calming effect on me.”
Sort of like you, mia tesoro.
“The sea has that effect on a lot of people,” she replies. “Though I can understand why someone like you would move out here. A little place to get away from the stresses of your life.” She shakes her head and says in wonder. “Rosa. I definitely didn’t recognize her. I think it’s the hair.”
“Shaving half your head off would do that,” I agree.
Angela pauses. “So that’s another face I’ve seen. How does that affect your plans? Are you going to kill another two family members or not?” Her voice oozes sarcasm.
“No,” I tell her. “Only one.”
She looks at me a moment, very worried, but when I can’t hold back a smile, she shoves me and laughs. “I almost believed you there for a second.”
“That’s because I’m capable of it and you know it,” I tell her.
She becomes serious. “Yes. You’re capable of killing my father, and everyone I know. It’s why I’m not sure if I can trust you. Not sure if I dare.”
“I have similar feelings about you, believe me,” I say.
