Hoka looked at him with perfect stillness. “Life is funny like that sometimes.”
Then he opened the back door and inclined his head toward me. “Please, Emily. Let me drive you.”
As if there were a world in which I was going to say no to that man.
I got into the car. Pietro slid in beside me a second later, Olivero in the front, and for the first few minutes the silence was so complete it felt curated. As if everyone in the vehicle had agreed, without saying aloud, that this was not the moment for too much truth.
Hoka, to my surprise, was the one who broke it.
“Pietro tells me your sister is having surgery,” he said, his eyes on the road.
I looked up. “Yes. Tomorrow.”
He nodded once. “I hope it goes smoothly.”
The words were simple, but there was enough sincerity in them that my shoulders loosened a fraction.
“Thank you.”
“Seattle is very beautiful when life is not inconvenient,” he went on. “I’m sorry your return is under difficult circumstances.”
I blinked. That was…unexpectedly kind.
“So am I,” I admitted.
Beside me, Pietro said nothing, but his hand found mine and stayed there. Quiet. Grounding.
Hoka’s eyes flicked once to the rearview mirror, caught the gesture, and said nothing about that either.
By the time the car turned onto my street, my nerves were back in full force. Home sat just ahead, familiar and full of ghosts I had spent years pretending no longer had access to me.
Hoka pulled to a smooth stop in front of the house. Olivero was already out of the car by the time I fully came back to myself, reaching for my suitcase like he had done it a thousand times before.
“Thank you,” I said, turning toward Hoka. “Really.”
He inclined his head. “Take care of your sister, Emily.”
I nodded and reached for the door.
Then Pietro caught my hand.
I turned back at once.
His face had gone still in that way it did when he was containing too much at once.
“I’m not far,” he said quietly. “One phone call and I’m here.”
My throat tightened. “Pietro?—”
“I mean it.” His thumb brushed once over my knuckles. “If you need space, take it. If you need me, call. If it becomes too much, take a taxi to the Fairmont and I’ll be there waiting for you.”
“For as long as you need me close.”
I looked at him for one second too long, memorizing the seriousness in his face, the utter lack of performance in it. Then I squeezed his hand once.
“Okay,” I whispered.
His fingers tightened around mine before he let go.
