“And you?” I ask. “Who’s monitoring you?”
She blinks. The question catches her off guard, which tells me everything.
“I’m fine.”
“You haven’t slept.”
“I slept.”
“When?”
A pause. “Tuesday.”
“Gia, it’s Friday.”
She squares her shoulders. The doctor in her takes over again, smooth and practiced. “I have patients.”
“You have people who care about you.”
Her mouth opens. Closes. Something crosses her features, quick, before she shuts it down. She pats my arm.
“Go sleep, Isabella. Doctor’s orders.”
She walks back toward the supply room. Her steps don’t drag. Her spine doesn’t curve.
I go back upstairs. The hallway is quiet except for the hum of the air conditioning. Lorenzo’s door is open. The hallway light catches his silhouette. He’s back. Standing by the window, shirt changed, cleaned up, looking out at the front gates with that particular stillness of his. There’s a fresh bruise darkening along his jaw.
I don’t ask.
He turns when I enter. “Sofia?” he asks.
“Sleeping. Healing. Slowly.”
He nods. Studies me. His knuckles are red. I take his hand and press my thumb across them, gentle over the damage.
I press my face against his chest. He pulls me in without hesitation. Automatic. Like muscle memory he didn’t have six weeks ago.
“I watched Mila grab onto Nico like he was the last solid thing in the world,” I say into his shirt. “And I watched your sister pretend she’s not falling apart. And Sofia let Gia take her blood pressure without pulling away.”
His fingers find the back of my head. Fingers in my hair. Not pulling. Just there.
“Small things,” I say.
“Small things.”
He holds me. The predawn light starts to seep through the curtains. The compound settles into the hour before the house wakes and Nonna Rosa starts the coffee and another day of slow, patient, impossible healing begins.
Small things. That’s all we have.
It’s enough.
33
LORENZO
She chose me. The thought won’t leave. Occupying space that’s been vacant longer than I want to count. Her words still in the air.
I thought about it. For one second. And then I chose you.
