A hissing sound leaves my mother’s throat, and she pushes her loose hair back. Then she starts pacing back and forth.
“You just met this woman, Nero! She’s been in your life for what—two months?”
“Nina has been in my life for years, long before you, actually,” I answer, giving up on looking at her.
I close the garment case and make a mental inventory, checking that I’m not forgetting anything I came to get.
“I pulled you out of nothing, out of the gutter, and no matter how much time passes, you insist on keeping it within reach,” Lysandra switches tactics. When the emotional route doesn’t work, she goes passive-aggressive. “First with those boys, and now with this woman.”
I take a deep breath, swallowing the anger spiralling in my stomach, desperate to spill out of my mouth.
“I love you, Mom, and I’m deeply grateful for everything you and Dad mean to me—for everything you brought into my life—but my life is still mine to live. Not yours.”
I grab my things from the bed and head for the door.
“What you’re saying,” my mother’s voice stops me as my hand reaches the handle, “is that if you have to choose between that woman and your family, you’ll choose her?”
I give her a single glance over my shoulder and don’t offer more than a nod before opening the door and walking past her.
CHAPTER 34
NINA MARCHESI
The constant back-and-forth trips to Athens over the past few weeks make it feel much closer than it did back when I lived there and could barely afford to come home. The problem was never the distance—it was the fact that every cent I earned went straight into my studies. Round-trip tickets weren’t a luxury I could afford.
The calm atmosphere of the Greek capital, empty at this time of year, is almost unrecognisable to anyone used to seeing it only at the height of summer, when the city is packed with tourists. I keep walking toward the ferry station, silently thanking God for managing to get back to the island early today.
This morning’s mission was to go through the visa process at the UAE General Consulate. I can’t say it was quick, but I suppose it could have been much worse than being on my way home by eleven in the morning.
I tilt my neck from side to side, trying to ease the persistent tension in my shoulders that’s been there since I startedwalking. The thick coat I’m wearing feels excessive, but the temperature change between Khione and Athens always leaves me uncomfortable.
I ignore the cold sweat on my skin, but I can’t do the same with the sudden wave of nausea and dizziness that hits me. It’s vertigo and nausea at the same time. My heart starts racing in an instant, and breathing becomes difficult. I reach out for the wall, gripping it at the exact moment my legs give out, and I suck in air, trying to catch my breath.
It doesn’t work.
The sensations swell, growing exponentially until I can’t remain standing. My body feels too heavy, my head feels too heavy, and my neck feels like it’s been erased from my body with a superpowered eraser.
I realise what’s about to happen before it actually does. Everything around me becomes blurred and distant, and I feel my mind shutting down. My vision clouds, my legs fold beneath me—and then everything goes black.
***
I open my eyes, only to close them again. I press my hands against the surface beneath them and realise the rest of my body is there too.
I’m on the ground.
I open my eyes again.
Several unfamiliar faces surround me, and I frown, unable to think clearly or understand why. Suddenly, everything feels like too much—too much noise, too much light, too many people.
“Are you okay?” a male voice asks, and I turn my head toward it. A middle-aged man is crouched beside me. Was he always here? What am I doing on the floor?
I try to get up, but I can’t—I don’t have enough energy to move my own body. Somewhere in my consciousness, a part of me knows I should try harder, focus, check for pain or possible injuries, but the fog in my head won’t let me do any of that.
“You fainted,” the same man says, and this time I understand his words more clearly. “We’ve already called an ambulance. It’s on the way.”
I open my mouth to say it’s not necessary, but an irrational fear chills my skin, and I decide no one ever died from trusting their instincts. I nod, letting him know I understand.
I stay still, waiting for the ambulance, and little by little I feel my senses returning to normal. When it arrives, I get into it on my own two feet, feeling much better, though the strange sense of panic still beats fast in my chest. Sitting in the emergency vehicle, I take a deep breath, telling myself it’s nothing serious. The doctor will say I’m fine—what else could he say?
