Page 21

“Well, usually most people are up at this time,” I throw back with a chuckle.

“What do you want, asshole?” I hear Tobias on the other end, so apparently I’m on speaker.

“Good morning to you too.”

“Rafe,” Danny barks.

“Okay. Fig says I need a grand gesture.”

“A what?” Danny asks. “Explain.”

“I fucked up with Lyric and Fig says I need another grand gesture to apologize to him,” I clarify while staring out at the city of Busan. We pass the entrance to a horse racing stadium—I only know that because I recognize the neon sign’s horses and vibrant colors from an article I read in a guidebook.

“You did your usual ‘foot insert into mouth’ move, didn’t you?” Danny chuckles.

“I did.”

“Need time to think about this. But Fig is right. I’ll call you later.”

“Much later,” Tobias says before one of them ends the call.

I roll my eyes, knowing exacting what those two are about to do. Then I think of one more person who can help me. Crap, I should have called her first.

I dial my mom’s cell phone and wait for her to pick up.

“What did you do wrong now?” Her calm tone puts me at ease.

“What makes you think I did something wrong? I could have just called to hear your beautiful voice,” I say.

“Because I know you all too well,” she says with a note of humor. “I guess it’s my fault. You are so much like me.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” I question with smile.

“So, tell me, what happened? Did you see Lyric?” God, I love my mother. She’s so compassionate and loving. But just don’t piss her off or she’ll chase your ass with a wooden spoon she calls ‘the coolie cracker.’ I know from firsthand experience that weapon hurts.

I explain to Mom everything that was said and her silence speaks loudly.

“I know I fucked up, Mom.”

“First off, stop swearing.”

“You’re worse,” I counter.

“Let’s get back to the subject. You messed up and want to fix it. Right?”

“Yes.”

“Then find out where Lyric’s grandmother lives and go there. But Rafe?” Her tone becomes more serious.

“Yes, Mom?”

“Don’t go empty handed. But don’t just bring any old thing—get stuff the woman needs.”

“What about⁠—”

“No. Trust me. Lyric isn’t the one you focus on. You need to go for the grandmother. That’s the big gesture. It’s the Italian way.”

My mom always uses that justification. But this time, she might be correct.