Dad? Where are you?
The heaviness of the obsidian void wraps around my limbs and crushes my lungs like a weighted blanket.
I don’t know if I’m fighting, floating, or dead.
I think I’m dead.
My body feels like it’s submerged in ice water. I can barely breathe.
A soft beep pierces through the onyx, like the toll of death descending upon me.
I wait for Dad to greet me.
Then the rhythmic metronome increases in volume, awakening me from slumber.
My eyelids twitch then open to light.
I blink. I feel like I’m staring at the sun underwater. Faint blurs of movement like ghosts shift around me.
I blink again.
My vision clears a little as a familiar face leans over me.
“Cipriani.”
I blink a third time and her face comes into focus.
“Mama?”
“I’m here, sweetie,” she breathes.
It’s Mom, not Dad.
I’m alive.
Her hand cradles my cheek and tears glisten in her eyes.
I try to speak. I need to know what happened, but my speech comes out garbled.
Mama hushes me. “Don’t talk. Save your strength.” Her olive cheeks are kissed scarlet, and she looks like all the fight has left her.
It’s then that I’m aware of the softness underneath me. Blankets are pulled to my chin. I feel my body but I don’t have the energy to move. Something is in my hand and monitors beep around me.
Cold fingers press against my forehead. It’s Nonna. A rosary weaves tightly through her fingers, and her lips move quickly in prayer.
Gigi hovers near the foot of the bed. Her wild curls are yanked back into a haphazard bun. Mascara stains her cheeks, and her eyes are swollen from crying.
“You’re alive, thank God,” Gigi murmurs, her voice cracking.
The air is somber. I feel like I’ve interrupted their period of mourning, like they expected me to die.
Ye of little faith.
“What happened?” I croak. My words are hoarse and raw.
“What happened is you almost died,” Gigi cries.
Mama waves a hand at her to keep her mouth shut. “You’ve been out for six hours.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it. “Dr. Reggiano got the bullet out, thank God. You were shot at three times, but only one hit you in the side. The bullet missed your lung by an inch. They almost lost you on the operating table. You’re lucky to be alive.”
