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His eyes find mine again in the passenger-side mirror.

I’m here.

I give him a small smile.

Then I feel eyes on me.

I turn and find Chiara sitting beside me in the middle seat, her expression speaking loudly.

What the hell?

Her eyes move from my face to the hand I’m holding.

I shrug.

I need my best friend for this, and I’m not apologizing.

***

We get out of the car and find what looks like thirty people waiting for us, gathered around a tiny elderly woman who can only be Damiano's nonna.

I recognize her immediately.

I've seen her in photographs, heard her voice over the phone, and listened to Damiano imitate her countless times, usually while waving his hands around and telling me I wasn't feeding him enough.

“Beddame, veni ca.”

Nonna Carmela opens her arms before I can even say hello.

I walk straight into them.

She's exactly how Damiano always described her. Tiny, barely reaching my shoulder, but with the presence of a six-foot woman. Her arms close around me with surprising strength, and for a moment I let myself be held by the woman who helped raise the boy who became my husband.

“Ciao, nonna,” I whisper.

She pulls back just enough to study my face, her hands still resting on my arms. Her eyes travel over me, taking everything in, before she looks over my shoulder.

“To soru?”

She points at Chiara.

“Sì. Chiara, piacere.” My sister steps forward and offers her hand.

Nonna Carmela looks at it as though Chiara has suggested something ridiculous, then pulls her into her arms instead.

I bite back a laugh.

Oh, she's going to fit right in.

Next, Nonna's attention moves to Dex. Her eyes travel slowly over his tattoos, one eyebrow lifting higher with every inch of ink she discovers.

Dex, for once in his life, seems to have absolutely nothing to say.

Then she looks at Lexy.

Her entire face softens, and she opens her arms again.

Lexy doesn't hesitate. She walks right into the embrace, and just like that, she's family.