“It can’t be them! I don’t know what their blood type was since I never asked when I was a teen, but Chiara and I are both A positive.”
I hear some rustling on her end before she responds, “And are we sure you guys aren’t adopted or anything? I had this one guy in my biology class in high school who found out like this, he?—”
“No, I’m sure. Chiara and I are spitting images of my mother. And I have enough of my father’s features to know he’s mine,” I tell her.
There’s a moment of silence on the other end before she speaks again. “So you think the case has been tampered with?”
“Yes! This is what I’ve been telling everyone for five years, and now there’s proof,” I exclaim, my emotions bouncing all over the place.
“Okay, don’t jump to conclusions just yet. I know you want this badly, but we need to stick to the facts,” she cautions. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow. I’ll check some things and maybe ask some colleagues for their input.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“See you tomorrow, Lina.”
FORTY
To avoid sittingon the cold concrete, I let my backpack fall to the ground before taking a seat. It’s lunchtime, but the winter chill is still in full force.
“I was at the shelter, and you weren’t there,” I say to Howie, handing him a burger package and a Coke.
“Thank you,” he replies, giving me a nod. “It may sound dumb, but I missed this place. The shelter is warm and all, but…”
“But it’s not home,” I finish his sentence.
He huffs. “Home is something I haven’t known for a long time.”
“Same,” I admit, and he glances over at me.
“How is your arm?” he asks.
“Better,” I reply with a slight shrug, trying to downplay the situation. However, the angry red hue of the skin around the cuts is hard to overlook. Despite my best efforts to protect the wounds, they seem to have become infected, making the area tender to the touch.
Changing the subject, I say, “I got my first paycheck last week. The NYPD pays well.”
“That’s nice, Lina. I’m proud of you. But you don’t have to get me a Coke just because you earn more now,” he says, taking a sip. “Although I do appreciate it.”
I smile. “I should get you something warm to drink in this cold weather, but you only like Coke, so…”
He chuckles, “It’s fine. But you didn’t tell me that to brag, did you?”
I smirk. “Maybe a bit. But no. They offered me a job after college, and if they pay their interns well, they’ll surely pay their full-time workers even better, right?”
“I still hear you just bragging. Justified and well-deserved, but what are you saying, kiddo?” Howie asks.
“I’m asking you to hold out. Hang in there with me. Two more years, max, Howie. I’m going to save every penny I earn and don’t need to live, and the second Chiara turns eighteen, I’m going to rent an apartment for us, and we’re out of here.”
“I love that for you,” he replies with a smile.
“Howie, you’re not listening,” I say, gently taking his free hand in mine. “Hang in there for me, and I’m going to build us the home we haven’t had for so long. You told me yourself, we’re family. And as much as I would never leave Chiara behind, I won’t leave you behind either,” I say earnestly.
“Lina, I’m just baggage no one needs,” he murmurs.
“I need you,” I whisper.
Thinking about the new home I envision for us, memories of the initial weeks after losing the only home I had ever known start flooding back.
The room isthick with tension, the air heavy with the stench of alcohol. Roberto’s eyes are bloodshot, his face contorted with anger and frustration. I can see the hunger in his eyes, not just for food but for an outlet for his rage.
