There's a knock on my door.
"Isabella." Alessia's voice, gentle and concerned. "I brought you breakfast."
"I'm not hungry."
"You need to eat something."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine." A pause. "Please let me in."
"I just need to be alone right now."
I hear her sigh softly and then her footsteps retreat down the hallway, and I roll over and press my face into my pillow and the crying starts again because it always starts again, it never really stops, it just pauses long enough for me to catch my breath before the next wave hits.
The knock comes again later.
I don't know how much later. Time has stopped meaning anything. Could be an hour, could be ten minutes, could be days for all I know.
"Isabella." Different voice this time. Dante.
I don't answer.
"I know you're in there. I need you to open the door."
"Go away."
"I can't do that."
"I don't want to see anyone."
"Matteo needs to see you. It's important."
Something in his tone makes me sit up. Not urgent exactly, but serious in a way that cuts through the fog.
"What happened?" My voice comes out hoarse from crying.
"I can't tell you through the door. You need to come with me."
"I don't want to?—"
"Isabella." His voice is gentler now, patient. "I know you're hurting. I know these last few days have been hell. But something's happened and Matteo needs you downstairs and I need you to trust me enough to open this door."
I stare at the door for a long moment.
Then I get up and unlock it.
Dante is standing in the hallway and his face shows a flicker of concern or pity or both that makes me acutely aware of how I must look. I haven't showered since Enzo left. I'm still wearing the same clothes I was wearing when he walked out. My eyes are swollen and red and my hair is a mess and I probably look exactly like what I am.
Someone falling apart.
"Hey," he says softly. "You okay?"
The question is so absurd I almost laugh.
"No," I say honestly. "I'm really not."
"I know." He takes a step closer. "And I'm sorry. For all of it. For what happened with Enzo, for what Matteo did, for—" He stops. "I'm just sorry."
