Page 51 of Icarus

“Are you okay, Icarus?” she asked.

“I need you to promise me you won’t tell anyone about this.”

“We don’t know what ‘this’ is,” she said softly. “Is . . . are . . . do you think . . . is this a hoarder house?”

“It’s too clean to be a hoarder house,” Luca said, starting to eat. “My grandma is a hoarder and her house is full of mice.”

Icarus stared hard at Celestina’s hand on the table until it began to get blurry again. He covered his eyes and took a deep breath, pressing his palms into his skull. Okay. Okay.

He had to explain some things, but he didn’t have to tell them all of it.

“My dad does art restoration. Most of . . . this is his work. A lot of it isn’t. There . . . there are things in this apartment that are worth more than all the buildings on this block put together. I’m not supposed to have people in here, I’m never supposed to bring people here.”

“Oh.” Celestina pulled her hand back. “We’re the first people you’ve brought home . . .?”

Luca looked up, sharply. “We’re the first friends he’s ever had,” he corrected.

Icarus wished the floor would drag him straight to hell.

“I don’t even know what to do now,” he whispered. “It’s been . . . my whole life. Everything is ruined.”

Luca shook his head. “It’s not ruined. As long as we don’t tell anyone, nothing has changed. As long as we don’t do anything about what we know, we’ll be all right.”

Celestina glanced at Luca, then turned back to Icarus. “What are the rules?”

“What?”

“What are the rules . . . for your life?”

Icarus had had enough of crying in front of these people, but being asked this? In that soft of a voice?

“I . . .” He took a deep breath and willed himself to stop shaking. “I’m not supposed to bring people over or go to their houses. I’m not supposed to do things that make people too interested in me . . . adults mostly, but kids also. I’m not allowed to talk about his work or mine. I’m not allowed to be . . . too good at certain things.”

Luca gripped his fork hard in his fist. Their food was getting cold. Celestina hadn’t touched hers. Icarus put a spoon of sugar in his tea and took a sip.

“You shouldn’t have to sleep in a closet,” Celestina said.

Icarus shook his head. “We need the room.”

Sting

He walked them through the house, so they could understand with sober eyes.

Celestina dragged her fingertips across the door of Icarus’s small bedroom as they passed it.

The storage room opened with a hiss and Luca couldn’t contain a gasp. Icarus had been looking at these things his whole life, but with Celestina and Luca beside him, it felt like he was seeing it all for the first time with them. The blue LED lights, the floor to ceiling temperature and humidity-controlled containers. The vast wall of tools, the large porcelain worktable.

“No one else has been in here since it was built,” Icarus murmured. “Most of it is my dad’s, but this area over here is mine.”

He opened a cabinet and pulled out the rack so they could look at some of his own restoration work. Celestina leaned in close to inspect the detail of the paintings. She held her hands tight behind her back, straining not to touch.

Luca just stared at Icarus. Looked at him hard like he was memorizing his face.

“Where do you get this stuff from?” he asked.

“Museums. Private collectors. Occasionally a library, but most of the time my dad will send me in person for something low-profile like that.”

“How much do they p—”