“Eli and I don’t think you should stay alone in the family home…” She pauses, licking her lips.
I’m too tired to try to decipher what she is talking about, so instead, I wait for her to finish.
“We think it’s best if you stay at our apartment. Just until you feel somewhat better.”
It takes me a minute to really gather what she is suggesting, and all I can do is shake my head. “I’m fine.”
She gives me a look. Ignoring it, I continue.
“I am. I would like to process this on my own.”I want to drown in my despair alone.
“Bu—”
“Please. Val. I really don’t have the energy for any of this,” I beg, my voice reeking of desperation.
She gives me a single nod, not arguing any further.
4
MARA
ONE MONTH LATER
It’s midday when Emiliano and Matteo show up, just the two of them. The silence stretches as they sit across me in Pop’s old office. My teeth grind against each other.
What could they possibly want?
Eli clears his throat. “We know this is too soon, but we’ve decided it will be safer to send you away with Nicolo.”
I go still.
NO.
My chest heaves as I try to calm my erratic breathing. “Safer for who, exactly? Fo you and your wife? For Matteo? For me? For the Camorra? Tell me, Emiliano.”
My brother’s expression darkens at my tone. “Obviously safer foryou.”
My face twists into a grotesque scowl. “Don’tlieto me! All you and Matteo have ever done for the past couple of weeks—hell, the last couple of months—is lie.”
“Mara—” Matteo tries to speak, but I cut him off.
“No! You don’t get to do this. You can’t control my life. This ismylife. Not yours. I’m not leaving!”
Emiliano slams his hand on the desk, the sound echoing in the room. My heart beats against my chest with vengeance, vision blurring as I try to push the nausea down.
This is a disaster.
“That’s enough, Mara! You are leaving, tomorrow. This matter isn’t up for debate. I tried to send you and Ma away before, but she refused. Now look where that got us.”
Why is this happening?Why?
As I sitin front of my vanity, the light from the oval mirror casting a soft glow on my face, everything around me feels suffocatingly pristine. The cream velvet chair beneath me is too plush, too still—like everything else in this cursed house. My fingers toy with my hairbrush, running it through my hair without much intention. The brush glides through too easily, and I find myself wishing it would snag just so I could feel something real.
I try to ignore the annoying presence of Eli. For the past month, everyone has been tiptoeing around me as if I’m made of glass.
“I’m not going anywhere, Eli. So close the door on your way out, and don’t be annoying about it.”
My brother stands by my bedroom door, waiting for me to get up and pack my stuff. As if. I look up to see him still standing in my room, as if he has any right.
