Page 63 of Enzo

Penelope walks back toward the street, already on her phone again. Suddenly, it’s just Molly and me, but it feels so different this time.

Molly folds her arms across herself and stares down at the broken concrete between us, then at me. There’s something painful in her expression.

“Enzo—”

“Don’t.” I cut her off, because, if she starts apologizing, I don’t know whether I’m going to believe her. A part of me thinks, how could she do that? How could she leak private footage of me? And another part of me will want to believe her.

I started doubting myself when the media frenzy broke.

Was Venice even real?

Did she recognize who I was and then lie that she didn't know me?

She’s no better than most of the women I meet.

She used me.

She sighs. I’ve never seen her look so sad before.

“I'm sorry for the video going viral,” she says, after a while. “I wish I could go back and fix things. I tried to fix things but …” Her voice peters out.

My jaw clenches. Is she lying, even now?

“I asked my friend to take the video down, but she refused.”

It’s been over a week since Venice, and the video is still everywhere, circulating around the internet like a virus.

“I doubt that you can. It’s too late. The damage is done.”

The video is still going strong, in part, I suspect, because Molly unleashed something else unwittingly—the curiosity into the Knight family’s past.

I'm used to people wanting more from me but that's when they know my name. I have a feeling she knew who I was all along.

I stand, my hands fisted into my pockets. There will be nail imprints in the palms of my hands. Our eyes meet and lock and the magic of that evening seems like it belonged to two other people.

Not us.

We’re standing on the plot of land and we’re supposed to be discussing ideas. She’s supposed to tell me what the school wants. But the redevelopment is the last thing on my mind.

The chill between us feels unbearably cold. I should leave, but a part of me doesn’t want to. A part of me wants to believe what she’s just told me.

“The … the children would probably want somewhere they can run around,” she says eventually.

I swallow and bite down on my molars. “Okay.”

“And somewhere not too exposed. Winters here are—”

“Cold?”

“Yes.”

“Enzo, please believe me,” Molly blurts out, like she can’t keep it in any longer. “I didn’t upload those clips. I meant to send them to Miss Turlington, but I sent them to Kiki by mistake. She uploaded them to her followers.”

Her eyes well up and she looks like she’s going to burst into tears.

“Is that what happened?” My tone is light, like I’m not sure what to make of this. I want to believe her, and it sounds probable, but that’s exactly what a woman who has betrayed me would say.

“I feel so bad.” She touches her chest like she can feel the pain.