“For the past three days, she’s been like this. Things have been strange for about a week, but Mr. De Falco said she’s going through a depressive phase, so I didn’t think much of it. But now it looks like more than depression to me, so I called madam.”
“This isn’t depression,” I mutter, wiping my eyes.
Alessio ends the call.
“I’ll have Remi bring her to San Diego immediately.”
I nod.
A knock sounds at his office door before it opens and his assistant steps in. He looks between us and lowers his head. “I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, but the news is urgent.”
“What is it?”
“Chris Flisher’s estate has been burned.” He then asks the office AI assistant to show the video he sent to Alessio on the wall screen.
The video is satellite footage. A small fire ignites in one circle, then moves to the next, and soon spreads over all the greenery around the palace, and then inside it.
“How did this happen? Wasn’t his estate fire-resistant?”
“It was, especially the inside of the palace.”
“Who did this?”
“The pattern and materials used to start and spread the fire match those of the Naples fire. Even Canadian news channels are speculating that the Butcher of Naples has reached Canada.”
Alessio frowns. “How is this possible? Salvario’s in Naples.”
“It could be someone else with his methods.”
“Find out who did it.”
Elowen
I sit on the grass. It’s soft. I run my hand over it, chuckling. There’s nothing funny here, and yet everything is.
Bruno brings back a ball.Where did he find it? Did I throw it? But wasn’t I in the pool just now?I look around, there’s no pool.Where did it go?
I don’t think about it further. I watch Rosie try to snatch the ball from Bruno’s mouth. I clap, laughing at their tussle. Bruno reaches me and drops the ball at my feet.
I pick it up and throw it with all the strength I can muster. It rolls back, a long distance that Bruno and Rosie cover in seconds. No, it wasn’t long. Only a few feet. It just felt long.
I stare at them as they tussle. My mouth stretches into a laugh, but no sound comes out. Slowly, it closes. The sky is dulling. A clawing sensation digs into the back of my mind, there are screams in my skull, sounds like my screams. They’re hurting me. My head is splitting.
The gray dog drops the ball on the gray grass. I don’t reach for it. I can’t move, the screams are getting louder.
Someone touches my shoulder. I try to turn my head, but it won’t move. Something warm touches my lips. I part them. Warm liquid touches my lips, then my tongue. Instantly, my eyes shift. I take a long sip, looking at the man in front of me.
Two more sips, and I remember his name. Salvario. He lives in the house with me. He’s my best friend, or maybe my boyfriend. But didn’t Dad say no boyfriends before eighteen?
How old am I?
I don’t care. I drink the remaining tea in one gulp and fall back onto the soft grass—which is green again—looking up at the bright sky, laughing with joy.
Salvario sits beside me, smiling. I grin back. He places his hand on my stomach, where the crop top doesn’t cover. My grin falters. Darkness flashes behind my eyes. Something inside my head is trying to surface, but something else keeps dragging it back. I should push his hand away, it’s now on my breast, under my top, but I’m grinning.
A scream wants to tear out of my throat, but a giggle comes out instead as he squeezes my breast. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I’m laughing through tears. He’s pushing my bra up.
I shake my head, still laughing. “No. Don’t do this.”
