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“And then what?”
“And then I’m going to exact the revenge that you, your husband, and your family deserve.” Alessandro was no longer smiling. He seethed and spoke between clenched teeth because the fury he felt the entire time. From the moment Isotta said I did, he started to boil again.
“This is about my sister, Valentina, isn’t it?” Isotta asked, curious as to what his response would be. Deep down inside, Isotta already felt like she knew the answer.
Celestina started to understand why her daughter pressed their captor the way she did. She also started to understand what Alessandro’s motivation was because he had been deceived.
“Isn’t it?” Isotta repeated. She was inquisitive the first time. She just started to put it together, but the second time she asked, Isotta was more convinced than ever that she was right.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Alessandro replied. “So, sit back and relax. All will be revealed soon.”
Alessandro walked away. He left Isotta and Celestina to their own worried devices.
“I really wish you would talk to me,” Celestina sighed as she turned in the direction of her daughter.
Isotta ignored her. She didn’t want to talk about what they’d already talked about. When she turned and looked toward her mother and saw her sad face, Isotta reminded her mother why talking would be a bad idea.
“What would be the point, mother?”
“Because, Isotta,” Celestina reasoned. “We’re family.”
“And that accounts for what?” She challenged.
“For everything,” Celestina replied. “We have to stick together, despite our differences, because we are family.”
Isotta shook her head, disgusted by the manipulative way her mother spoke and even more disgusted by Alessandro’s revenge fantasy he intended to play out.
“We being family is how we wound up in this situation,” Isotta replied. “We, buying into the whole because we’re family thing, is how I ended up with Massimo Ricci. Remember?”
“Accept it, Isotta,” Celestina whispered sharply. “We all have to accept what has happened and move on.”
“Oh, I’ve accepted it, mother. And that’s why we’re in the situation we’re in.”
“I can’t believe it’s been twenty-four hours,” Francesco said as he hung his head. “She hasn’t answered her phone, and if someone took her, there have been no demands, no ransom, nothing.”
They had searched for Celestina, looking everywhere, speaking with friends, and trying to reach out to Isotta to see if she knew where her mother was. When they didn’t get an answer, they didn’t really put two and two together. Francesco was beside himself with burgeoning worry. He called hospitals to see if she had been in an accident or something. He was even tempted to call the morgue, just in case. But he didn’t go that far. It was better for Francesco to hold on to the fact that she was still alive, just absent and unaccounted for.
Costanza, who normally played hard and unemotional, tried to keep her son calm, reminding him that it had only been a few hours. She would turn up. But when time continued to march on, Costanza also started to worry, although she didn’t let it show.
Francesco called Celestina’s phone again, just in case. Maybe she would pick up this time. But the phone didn’t ring. He pulled his cell phone back from his ear and looked to make sure he had dialed the number right. He had, but still, there was nothing. What did that mean? Then the line cracked, and he pressed his ear against the phone, just waiting to hear her voice.
But that wasn’t what he heard.
“I’m sorry, but the cell phone you have dialed is no longer in service.”
Incredibly frustrated, Francesco threw his cell phone across the room, groaning to keep from screaming.
“Son,” Costanza quipped.
“What?” Francesco blew up, leaping to his feet and turning to face his mother, looking her squarely in the eye.
Costanza stared back at him, at first with softer eyes and then growing keener as they stared. But Francesco didn’t back down. His eyes didn’t soften. They only grew keener. He was livid and scared for his wife. He wouldn’t back down. Costanza saw him and recognized his disposition. Although she ordinarily would not, Costanza chose to soften her eyes and back down. It was not the time to take a stand. She needed to support her son, and that’s what she chose to do in the meantime.
“We will find her,” Costanza offered. “She will be alright.”
“Don’t you remember her name, mother?” Francesco was still fuming and frightened. He didn’t wait for a response because he didn’t need one.
“It’s Celestina.” Francesco remained resolved and resolute. “Her name is Celestina.”
