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“Yeah?”

“Go get your brothers. Dinner’s ready.”

“Sure, Mom.” He winks at me.

God help us. The trouble that boy is going to bring with those charms.

He grabs a piece of bread from the counter. I slap his hand.

“Hey!”

“Dinner.”

“I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving.”

“Growing boy.”

“You’re sixteen.”

“Exactly.” He kisses my cheek again before heading for the back door. Before he’s even outside, he takes out a walkie-talkie and presses the button.

“Ma says get your asses down here!”

“Damiano!”

“Sorry!”

Jude’s chest moves against my back. I look up.

“Are you laughing?”

“No.”

“Your entire body is shaking.”

“Cough.”

“Asshole.”

“Love you too, short stuff.”

I smile despite myself.

Later, the back door flies open and Dante comes barreling into the kitchen first, dark curls wild and dirt smeared across one cheek. He’s holding a glass jar carefully between both hands.

“Mom! Look what I found by the treehouse.”

I glance inside. A white butterfly rests against the glass, its wings slowly opening and closing.

I go still for half a second.

“Beautiful,” I say softly.

“Can I keep it?”

I smile. “No, amore. Some things aren’t meant to be kept. Go let it fly.”