Saverio moved his other piece of equipment closer and started to fiddle with what looked like a dial. A second later, a crackling noise, like an old record player, filled the room. I sucked in a silent breath, my heart still fighting the lump that had lodged in my throat. I couldn’t pry my eyes from what looked like an old-time radio.
Time didn’t exist in those moments, and the crackling was threatening to eat me alive. It was worse than silence. Because every so often I’d think it was her, but it only turned out to be fuzz on the line.
Mamma gasped at what the static had suddenly turned into. I hadn’t even realized she’d come to stand at the edge of the room. My father got up from the table and went to her.
It barely registered.
The voice.
Her voice.
She was copying the sound of the beginning beats of a song. Then she started to hum before she started to sing.
“Stand By Me.”
It was hard for me to process anything but the sweet voice coming at me through the machine. It was so fucking real.
Mine.
It was like I’d heard it my entire life, but somehow, I’d lost it for a while.
My veins felt tight in my body, my blood too thick, and it was making my heart beat overtime.
Mamma’s gasp made sense. This song meant something to me and my family. It was a song that had been special to my father and my mamma’s brother, who had died before I was born. It became a song we all shared. Mia called it “our family song.” Sometimes when our father took us out on his boat to fish, he’d play it.
Stella was singing it.
Maybe it was apparent to everyone in the room. Maybe it wasn’t. But I heard it. The fucking tremble behind every lyric, like she was on the verge of tears. Like the song was giving her the strength to do what she was doing. Given the time—late afternoon—she was preparing to be hauled to the underground club to dance.
I’d never felt warm satisfaction and cold rage go to war in such a small space before. My mind was set for battle, and my heart was being shredded inside of my chest. How such a sweet second could be one of the most bitter…it was fucking with me on a level I’d never experienced before.
My muscles seized when a heavy hand came to my shoulder and squeezed. I wondered if my skin was so hot that it burned his palm. My grandfather. I hadn’t even realized I’d stood out of my chair, my hands braced against the table, looming over Saverio’s machine. Nonno squeezed once more, and then to a group that had formed without me noticing said, “We get his heart in one week’s time. We have enough information. If we do not—” he shrugged, as if to say, it will have to be enough “—thenwe will still take her back to him as they are bringing her to the underground club.”
We will take her back.
He knew.
He knew she’d always been mine.
The rest of the room disappeared and gave me privacy.
I listened to her sing, mumble to herself, hum, and then sigh…before I heard static again. It almost sounded like my ring was rubbing against fabric. Lev told us she wore my jacket every night on the way to Sub Rosa.
I sat with the static until the sun came up the next morning, my hand over my chest, like I was bleeding out.
Chapter 2
Stella
Even though I’d been sheltered—chained—I still knew the basics of life. Like…when it was cold outside, I’d shiver. Or when it was hot, I’d sweat. Both of those things were brought on by the weather, but when it felt like a cold hand had touched my hot skin, I knew it was a visceral reaction to where I was headed. Even Régine’s lingering perfume felt like an angry ghost passing against my skin.
Honestly, even though I experienced natural reactions, beyond that, I wondered how I even functioned like a normal human being.
Like a girl.
Or a woman.
I’d been locked up in this French dungeon so long, I was only used to cleaning, dancing, and being bossed around. Who was going to stop it? Maybe me, if I decided not to dance, but the wicked witch of France and her army would find ways to make me move. I’d tried to fight it once—only once. I ended up trapped underground, no light at all, with rats nipping at my toes.
