Dante’s voice cuts through my reverie, and I turn reluctantly, tearing my eyes away from Mia. He’s standing at my side, his usual smirk replaced with something softer.
“Come on, man,” he says, nudging me toward the corner of the room. “I know that look. You’re totally gone for her. It’s written all over your face.”
I bristle instinctively, but Dante raises a hand. “Relax. I’m not here to give you grief. I just…I’ve seen you these past few months, Leon. Hell, we’ve all seen it. You’ve been fighting like a man with nothing left to lose. But now? Look at her. Look at what you have.”
I glance back at Mia. She’s laughing with Isabella and Cassandra, her hand still on her belly, the picture of happiness.
“You’ve got something rare,” Dante continues, his voice quieter. “And you don’t get many chances at that in this life. Stop pushing her away. Go talk to her. Be happy, for once.”
His words hit harder than I expected. Happiness feels like such an optimistic prospect; it barely feels like it could even be obtainable anymore.
But for Mia? For our family? Anything. I would do anything.
I nod, clapping a hand on Dante’s shoulder. “Thanks.”
But before I can take a step toward her, the room shifts.
The hum of conversation turns to murmurs, the air thickening with unease. And then?—
The explosion hits.
21
MIA
My ears are ringing as I slowly come to my senses.
Vaguely, I’m aware I’m on the floor, back pressing into something hard and uncomfortable as I gasp for breath through the thick dust. The deafening sound of the explosion still echoes in my skull.
My hands instinctively fly to my stomach, protectively cupping it as I blink my eyes open.
Nothing makes sense. One moment, I was facing my family and my friends. Every person who ever meant something to me. The next, I’m staring up at the ceiling.
Whatever is left of it.
I stagger to my feet shakily, struggling to find my balance on the crumbling rubble.
The room around me is now a chaotic mess of fallen furniture, shattered glass, and splintered wood. The walls are cracked, the windows blown out. The decorations I’d insisted on now lie limply on the floor.
Where is Leon?
I can barely see through the haze, but the screams and cries of panic pierce through my confusion. I blink, trying to clear my vision, my heart hammering in my chest.
“Leon!” My voice breaks, the word choking me, but it doesn’t matter. There’s no response.
I push forward, carefully avoiding broken glass and debris, my hand still holding tight to my belly. The twins are moving, restless under my hands, and I can’t help but wonder if they feel the same terror I do.
The tears come without warning, sliding down my face as I stumble over the wreckage. I can’t think straight, the fear clouding my mind, but I force myself to focus. I have to find my family.
And then I see her.
Cassandra’s lifeless form is buried under a pile of rubble near the far side of the room. My stomach lurches.
No.
I rush to her, my legs unsteady beneath me, and kneel beside the mess of debris.
Cassandra’s pale face is smeared with dirt and blood, her body crushed beneath a heavy piece of the wall. Her arm is twisted awkwardly, and I can’t see her breathing.
