Little Russo: I’m starting to think that maybe home doesn’t exist.
I play her text again and again. It might not be her voice reading the words to me, but I can still hear the defeat in them.
Me: It exists. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.
Little Russo: I’ll take your word for it. I have to get out now. Good night.
10
Daniella
“How nice ofyou to finally come out.” Henry glares as I step out of the bathroom.
“Sorry,” I tell him, not wanting to poke the monster. “I haven’t been feeling well. Must’ve been something I ate.”
It’s a lie, but I don’t want him to get suspicious as to why I was in the bathroom for so long. He eyes me for several seconds before he nods and walks past me into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
I breathe a sigh of relief and go to the bed since it’s late and the only time he leaves me alone is when I’m sleeping, but before I get to my side, I notice he left his phone lying on the edge. He must’ve forgotten it when I walked out.
I rush around and grab it, hoping I can somehow call for help—or at the very least figure out our location. I tap the screen and then type in the numbers the password used to be.
When it unlocks the phone, I mentally fist-pump the air.
My time is limited, so I go straight to the texts so I can try to send my location to Matteo since I have his number memorized, but as I click on the app, a new text comes in.
Hillary: Our deal was that I seduce Lorenzo to get you info. I did that. Our deal is done.
My stomach sinks. I’m saddened that the woman my brother loves is as fake as my husband. But I don’t have time to dwell on that. Right now, I need to save my life. I’ll deal with her later.
I type in Matteo’s number and then click the plus sign so I can find the Location option to send a pin of where I am when the door swings open and Henry stalks out.
The moment he spots his phone in my hand, he cuts across the room and wraps his fingers around my throat, pushing me back until my head hits the wall so hard that I go dizzy.
“You think you’re fucking smart?” he spits, tightening his hold on my neck and cutting off my air supply. “You’re a dumb fucking Russo!”
He slaps me across the face, and I drop the phone out of my hand.
“And now, you’re about to be a dead Russo.”
He didn’t kill me.
He choked me.
Raped me.
Beat me.
But he didn’t kill me.
As I lie in bed, alone and sore, I kind of wish he had.
11
Matteo
Little Russo:What do you think is the purpose of life?
I stare at the screen and know that something bad has happened. Something worse than her being raped. The only time people contemplate the purpose of life is when they’re questioning if they want to continue to live it.
