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Molly had been gone for almost a full day. She was out there somewhere.
I took a step outside before realizing I was barefoot. I went back upstairs to put shoes on, and when I got back up I felt even more tired than before. I longed to lay back down in bed and close my eyes. To wait until the morning.
Molly is gone, I thought, seizing on the idea like a splash of cold water to the face.I have to find her.
I took the elevator back downstairs and walked across the lobby. My legs were exhausted by the time I reached the front door, so I sat in the chair to collect myself.
It was the same chair I had been sitting in when we met. When she yelled at me.
I smiled at the memory and closed my eyes. After I rested for a few minutes, I would go looking for her. And I wouldn’t stop until I found her.
Even if it was the last thing I did.
45
Molly
The Day I Spent In Jail
I sat in the Italian jail all night, tapping my foot and waiting to be released. The sun came up the next morning, then drifted across the sky outside my cell window. Occasionally a police officer walked by with another prisoner. There were four cells, each full of benches and big enough for a soccer team, but they were keeping everyone separated because of the virus.
That was a small miracle, I guess.
It was almost night again when a police officer unlocked my cell. I jumped up and asked, “Where are you taking me? Where am I going?”
“You are free to go,” he replied in surprisingly-good English. “Please come with me.”
I followed him through the police station numbly.
“Here are your belongings,” he told me at the front desk. “Cell phone, passport, and keys. You are receiving a formal warning for breaking the quarantine.”
“I told you I was turning in a test to the—”
“We have taken your passport information, and have reported your behavior to the American Embassy. If you are detained again, we will have no choice but to remove you from the European Union.”
“Is that a promise?” I muttered. The cop gave me an impatient look.
I left the station and pulled my belongings out of the bag. My phone battery was dead. Damn.
I hope Donovan is okay.
Without a phone I was kind of lost. I walked down a street for awhile until I saw the Colosseum in the distance. Based on the sun setting overthere,that meant my hotel should bethat way.
I followed the road, picking up speed as I went. Within a few minutes I was practically jogging. If Donovan’s condition had gotten worse and I wasn’t there to help him…
The front door to the hotel was still unlocked. I threw it open and rushed inside, turning toward the elevator, until something in the lobby caught my attention.
I gave a start. Donovan was sprawled out in the chair by the door, snoring softly behind his mask.
“Donovan!”
He blinked awake, then pulled himself to his feet. His dark hair was messy, and there was pasta sauce on his mask. His belt was only threaded through three of his jeans loops. He looked like a toddler who had tried to dress himself for the first time.
“You’re okay,” he said with a sigh of relief. “Molly…”
He stepped toward me, arms outstretched. I wanted nothing more than to hug him, to fall into his comforting arms and cry away my worries.
But I made myself step back behind the concierge desk, turning away as if the mere sight of him could infect me.
