I open my eyes and focus on the frightened girl. When I look at her, I can’t help but think about my sister. Maybe that’s the reason I feel so protective of her.
"I should go," I say. "Thank you for speaking with me."
She blinks at me. “Okay.”
"Would it be okay if I questioned you again some other time?"
“Of course,” she says, looking concerned.
I stand and walk out of her room.
My heart feels like it's made of a thousand jagged pieces of glass. Every breath I take tears me up inside.
The heaviness nearly drowns me as I drive back home.
I should go to my own room, but instead, I find myself heading toward Grace.
I open her bedroom door and close it behind me. I stare at her sleeping form. I truly don't understand what it is about this girl. She makes me feel something I never have.
Serenity.
Just being in her vicinity makes me feel at peace.
I don't try to make sense of it. I know that this is bigger than me.
I sit down in the armchair facing her bed. I stare at her until my eyelids turn heavy.
I'm getting attached to the girl.
It's only going to make it that much harder when it's time for us to say goodbye.
19
GRACE
I’m playing house with a mafia man.
We’ve fallen into a routine over the past few days. We have dinner together every night. And while he’s working, I fill my day with books and movies.
It’s Sunday morning now, and I have this light, bubbly feeling in my chest when I wake up. I try to remember a reason for this happiness, but I can’t think of anything.
I just feel good.
I have to keep reminding myself that Dante is keeping me prisoner here.
He says that it's a temporary marriage, but I don't believe him.
There's a darkness in his eyes. I know when people are lying to me, and since the moment I met him, I had a feeling that Dante is not who he appears to be.
He keeps a part of himself hidden.
We talk, but only about things that don’t matter. It’s been bothering me that he’s not opening up to me the way he did when we played twenty questions at the beach.
I pad out of the bedroom. I search for him, but the rest of the house is empty. My steps slow when I reach the kitchen. There'sa bouquet on the breakfast table. It's not just any flowers. It's a stunning arrangement of sunflowers, white roses, and baby's breath wrapped in brown kraft paper.
I stare at them for a moment.
It's not supposed to give me that fuzzy feeling in my chest, but I can't help it. I see a note stuck to the bouquet.
