Not because we didn’t want answers. Because Erica didn’t look like she could handle one more person asking her for anything.
Bianca’s gone now. But before she left, she leaned in and gave Erica a hug, then disappeared down the hallway with Giovanni. Roberto left at some point to take a call. Antonio and Vito keep rotating through like they’re doing laps, coming back with coffee and updates that aren’t really updates at all.
Luca is here again. Quiet. Watching. Not hovering over Erica the way I am, but just being present.
I keep my arm along the back of the chairs behind Erica, my hand resting where her shoulder meets her neck.
She shivers once.
I tilt my head closer.
“Hey.”
She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t move her head. But her fingers curl into my thigh as if she heard me.
Her body is warm against mine. Too warm, then too cold. Exhaustion does that. Shock does that. Fear does that.
She draws in a breath and lets it out slowly. Her lashes flutter once, heavy.
Then she blinks hard and straightens, the stubborn part of her snapping to attention like she’s been caught doing something wrong.
I tighten my hand on her shoulder.
“Stop.”
Her head turns a fraction toward me.
“What.”
I lean closer so she doesn’t have to move at all.
“You’re falling asleep sitting up.”
“I’m fine.”
“You are not fine.”
Her jaw tightens. That familiar set. The one she had earlier when she was spitting venom at the doctor.
“I’m not leaving,” she says, voice low. Final.
I don’t argue that part. It would be a waste of breath. If I tried to drag her out of here, she’d claw the floor before she let me.
So I change the target.
“I’m not asking you to leave.”
Her eyes narrow like she doesn’t believe me.
I keep my voice even.
“I’m telling you to rest.”
She scoffs like it’s ridiculous.
“How?”
“Like this,” I say, and I shift my arm, pulling her into me.
