I stare at Josh with wide eyes and mouth,What the…
A wide grin spreads across his face. Sophia grabs my wrist and pulls me along as we walk. “She’s the old lady whisperer,” Josh says, his voice filled with amusement now that we’re out of the grumpy woman’s earshot.
Sophia releases my wrist. “Oh, shut up. She’s nice!”
Clay walks beside me while the siblings walk ahead. “Yeah, nice to you. No one else,” he grumbles.
As we reach a corner where the hallway splits into two directions, Sophia smiles. “Thank you for finding my lost sheep.”
I give her my mask of indifference.
“Anytime,” Clay says, winking at me.
We’re about to walk off in separate directions when Del Moro and another cop approach from the direction Josh and Clay are about to head. I automatically position myself in front of Sophia, not wanting her to get pulled into Del Moro’s shit. Clay notices my movement and looks at me with furrowed brows.
Del Moro sneers at me as he passes by, saying, “Seems like they let the trash in now.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Yeah, but you already know that since you’re here.”
He glares at me before walking away, shouting, “Get lost, Costa.”
Clay looks after Del Moro before he turns back to me. “What the fuck was that?”
I just shrug, walking in the direction of Sophia’s lab, lost in yet another incident I will never be able to forgive Del Moro for.
Chiaraand I are at the subway station near her school, where I just picked her up. She’s crying, and I’m holding her close. Inher hand is a paper with a low grade, not the first one she’s gotten recently.
It’s only been three months since we lost our parents, and she’s struggling to sleep. Everything is just too much. We lost our parents, moved out of our home, and now live in a run-down apartment with our asshole of an uncle.
He wasn’t a nice guy even before we had to live with him, and I never liked him, but now he’s always drunk and angry, so we mostly try to stay out of his way.
Since Roberto doesn’t lift a finger, I’ve had to find two jobs to cover our rent and food, all while still going to high school. I even told a bar owner I was older than I am so I could work there at night.
Chiara doesn’t see the full picture. To her, she’s lost her parents and her home and feels like I’m not there for her. I want to be there more than anything. She is all I have now too. But if I don’t work, we’ll soon be homeless or without food.
Since I’m not there, and she is grieving, alone too much, and only fucking eleven years old, she is slacking. At first, her teachers were understanding, but apparently, their patience is running thin.
I move in front of her, placing my hands on her shoulders and bending down to meet her eyes. She’s wiping away tears, trying to hold back more. “Hey,piccola,” I soothe. “We’ll work on your next assignment together, okay? You’ll improve your grade in no time.”
She nods but can’t meet my eyes, and another tear rolls down her cheek. I can’t remember the last time I saw her smile. Lately, all she does is cry, and it’s breaking my heart. But I don’t know what to do.
I am struggling not to drown in grief myself.
Drawing her close, I give her a comforting hug, kissing her forehead. “How about some ice cream?”
I earned good tips last night, and even though it isn’t in the budget, sometimes you have to bend the rules, especially if it might bring a smile to her face.
But before she can respond, loud laughter echoes from behind us. Del Moro and his friends are approaching, heading to our platform. My heart sinks. Quickly, I turn us both so we’re facing away from them.
“Stay calm,” I whisper to Chiara, but it seems he’s already seen us.
“Costa!” Del Moro shouts. I briefly shut my eyes, drawing in a deep breath, trying to gather my courage, then I arrange my face into a blasé expression, shielding Chiara as I turn to face him.
We lock eyes, and I say nothing. Del Moro walks toward me with a malicious grin. “Haven’t I told you that you’re not allowed to use the subway anymore?”
“Fuck off, dickhead” I reply flatly.
Undeterred, he steps closer. I stand my ground, maintaining eye contact. But his eyes dart behind me. “What’s this?” He snatches Chiara’s paper from her hand and scans it.
