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“I know and I’m sorry. I promise I’ll bring you more presents for your birthday. I’ll—”

“I don’t want presents!” she shouted. My eyes were still closed, but I could picture her stomping her foot. She was so cute when she did that. “I want to see you. I want to hug you. And you promised. You promised, and now you’re breaking it.”

“Nova—”

“You’re a liar.”

“Nova, please just listen.”

“No. I’m never talking to you ever, ever, ever, ever again.”

My eyes snapped open, and I looked at the screen, trying to will her with my eyes not to threaten something like that. Anything else, I could take, but I couldn’t handle it if she stopped talking to me. I lived for the sound of her voice, the way she smiled at me. When things got bad or I got scared, I just imagined her, and I could breathe easier again. “Nova, I—”

But the screen had already gone blank.

She had hung up on me.

Fingers shaking, I tried to call her back, but it wouldn’t even ring. She’d turned off the iPad. She never did that. It was always on, so in case I called her earlier than expected, she could answer.

“No, no, no.” I tried again and again, but it didn’t ring once.

She couldn’t stop talking to me. She couldn’t be sad.

She couldn’t be mad at me.

I wouldn’t allow it.

I had to fix this. Now.

8

Ryan

Desperation had me thinking fast. I needed a plan, a way to fix this so Nova wouldn’t be upset anymore.

My gaze landed on the bathroom window, and I didn’t even consider the repercussions of my decision. I climbed up to the windowsill and used my shoulder to push the window open. The school grounds were pretty secure, but Ciana and I had spent hours examining all the holes in the security. It was something Mom had taught us to do from the time we’d started school. Always look for the holes, so that no matter what happened, we could have a plan to escape if we needed to.

Back then, neither of us had really understood what she was talking about, but over the years, we’d started to realize just what it meant to be part of the Vitucci family. We’d noticed that not everyone had guards shadowing their every move outside of their houses like we did. It was a dangerous world outside our compound walls, something the two of us had come to understand all too clearly in recent years.

Once I was off school property, I took off running in the direction of home. This time of day, with Papa in Chicago and all of us kids supposed to be in school, only one guard was on duty in front of the compound gate, and he was so into his phone that he didn’t notice when I climbed the fence.

As my feet landed on the other side, the growl of two dogs greeted me. I gave them the German command I’d been taught, and the dogs instantly came to attention. I whispered another command, and they took off running in the opposite direction. Inside the house, I went straight up to Mom’s room, hoping that she was sleeping if she was still feeling unwell.

Instead, I found the bedroom empty, but her shower was running. Hurriedly, I sent a few texts from her phone, requesting for the pilot to get the second jet ready since Papa was using the other one. Then I texted a car service we used sometimes before arranging for one to meet me when I landed.

I was out of my parents’ room before the shower even turned off. After stopping in my room to grab the present I’d already wrapped for Nova’s birthday, I rushed back out and left the compound the same way I’d snuck in.

The car service met me a few blocks from the house and drove me straight to the airport, where the jet was already waiting on the tarmac. The flight attendant greeted me with a bow of his head as I boarded.

“Mr. Vitucci,” he said as I took a seat. “Would you like a snack?”

“No, thank you.” I took my seat and waited for the pilot to get us in the air. No one questioned that it was just me, even though I never flew anywhere without Mom or at least three guards with me. The text I’d sent the pilot had simply told him it was an emergency and to get me to Northern California as quickly as possible. No one ever second-guessed Mom, which was why I’d made all the arrangements from her cell instead of my own.

I knew, without a doubt, that I was going to get into trouble for what I’d done, and I was prepared to deal with that.

What I couldn’t handle was Nova hating me for thinking I’d lied to her. For breaking a promise.

Promises were special. I knew people had to break them sometimes, but I wouldn’t do that to Nova unless there were no other options. Whatever punishment I got for making another option this time would be worth it.

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