"Thank you." My voice breaks on the words. "Tell Sophia—tell her thank you."
"I will."
I hang up.
Footsteps in the hallway. Getting closer.
A knock at the door.
I open it.
CHAPTER FOUR
Marina
Dr. Marchetti is older than I expected. Silver hair. Steady hands. A leather bag that looks like it's seen decades of emergencies.
He doesn't ask questions. Doesn't look around my apartment with judgment. Just nods once and says, "Show me."
I lead him to the bedroom.
He takes one look at Dante and gets to work.
"You can wait outside," he says. Not unkind. Just matter-of-fact. "I'll come find you when I'm done."
I back out of the room. Close the door.
And then I wait.
The hour that follows is the longest of my life.
I pace. I sit. I stand. I pace again.
I scrub the blood from my hallway floor with dish soap and a sponge because I can't just sit there doing nothing. The blood comes up easier than I thought. Leaves faint pink stains on the hardwood that I'll probably never get out.
I scrub anyway.
When the hallway is clean, I move to the living room. Wipe down the doorframe where Dante's bloody hand smeared across the wood. Clean the spots on the carpet near the entrance.
My apartment smells weird now.
I open a window.
Then I scrub whatever is left outside my door. There's only blood out of my apartment. Where he fell. And that's good. We don't need curious neighbors right now. I get in and close the door.
I stand by the window for a moment, letting the air wash over me. Letting it remind me that the world outside still exists.
The bedroom door opens.
I spin around.
Dr. Marchetti steps out. He's rolled up his sleeves. There's blood on his forearms, but his expression is calm.
"He'll live," he says.
The words hit me hard. I grab the back of my couch to steady myself.
"I’ve removed the bullet. It didn't hit anything vital. Missed the kidney by about two centimeters." He shakes his head. "Lucky."
