???
Salt takes the news that Ennio might be planning to end things with Rocco for good with cautious optimism. He says we’ll celebrate when headlines about the capo’s death start popping up.
But, I still catch a subtle shift in him, a surge of hope and excitement he tries to hide, maybe for my sake.
That afternoon, Salt and I dare to go out for a walk into the hills surrounding the buildings for the first time.
Technically, we slip out because the beta guards make it very clear we should not be taking risks, just in case someone might be lying in wait with a sniper rifle on the other side of the ridge.
But I know Salt simply longs for fresh air. He needs to feel the sun, the wind, the shift in energy, because being cooped up in a room like this day after day is crushing.
We sit down on a small cluster of rocks, and for a long while we just watch the ocean.
At this point, we still have no idea what Gomez’s decision about our fate will be, if we get a new unit, what the police are going to determine, or whether we will be sent somewhere under their supervision to some kind of safe house or hideout. What will happen?
Even after what Ennio said, I still have no idea how fast this is going to move. I don’t know if Rocco already has something lined up for me.
In the past, he liked hitting the same target twice in a short span because he knew people slip into a false sense of security. Like,okay, the worst is over, we’ve got a minute to breathe.
Wrong, bastards.
But being paranoid and stressed all the time is exhausting, so I just lie down next to Salt in the grass and close my eyes for a minute.
I can sense his movement as he turns toward me, his hand sliding gently over my face in a soothing, tender motion, and I let myself drift, breathing deeply, catching brief moments in this madness that can still be gentle and pleasant, his closeness, his energy against mine.
Slowly, I fall asleep.
And I dream of something strange.
I’m walking between large warehouses that I vaguely recognize as ones belonging to our family.
There’s a car, Ennio’s limousine.
I can see him standing next to it, looking at one of the buildings.
Suddenly, there’s a flash of intense light.
Something explodes in the warehouse he’s looking at.
A wave of destruction spreads outward, the ruins swallowing everything around them, reaching farther and farther, while a huge mushroom cloud rises above the city, like after a nuclear blast.
The center of the explosion is flattened out. In the dream, I can see the vague outlines of warehouses on the ground. Everything collapses like houses of cards, turning into something that looks like a post-apocalyptic wasteland.
The whole landscape is now gray, dust rising everywhere, and only in the very center do I think I see two small figures locked in some strange, desperate duel, but I have no idea who they are.
I feel this overwhelming certainty that the world is ending, that something has shattered beyond repair. That all has changed.
Pure terror spreads through me, my body flooded with stress.
Shaking, I wake up and let out a gasp.
But everything is fine.
I see Salt lying beside me, propped up on one elbow, watching me.
It’s funny to even notice things like that at such a moment, but I can see that his blue strands are only blue past a certain length; at the roots, his natural black hair has grown in. Thewind’s stirring the loose strands, daylight filling his gray, stormy irises.
His pupils are perfectly symmetrical, the muscles have adapted, and Salt’s eyes are now normal, as he looks at me with something hard to pinpoint.
