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It isn’t long before her eyelids are heavy and she falls into a deep and restful sleep. And I don’t leave her side. I refuse. I need to know that she is going to be okay, and until her father is truly behind bars and some time has passed, she might still be in danger.
“It’s good to see her sleeping,” Doctor Sharp says as she enters the room.
“Yes, and she ate well too,” I answer proudly. “Thank you.”
“It’s the least I can do for her,” the doctor says kindly as she adjusts the stream of medication into Aria’s hand. “She saved my life.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” the doctor says with a smile. “She hid me away from all the chaos before running directly toward it. I suspect she was looking for you.”
I think back to that day and I feel a little ashamed. I hate that she had to be there for it. I remember her face in front of my gun as I was ready to fire and my blood runs cold at the memory.
“She’s a strong woman to still be this alright after everything that’s happened,” the doctor continues.
“Yes,” I agree. “I think it probably runs in the family.”
Chapter 27
Aria
It’slateafternoonaswe wait outside the jail to be let in. With such a high-profile case, they aren’t too keen on the idea of us walking through the front door. I have arranged for a visitation with my father. I’m not sure why, but I feel I need to see him before his trial begins.
We are ushered inside and small bumps spread across my skin. I am not certain if it is because it is cold inside, or because of my nerves. I wrap my fingers in Edoardo’s as we walk down a long, dimly-lit corridor.
There are rows and rows of cells and they’re all empty. I suppose what I said in the hospital must have stuck and they don’t want him talking to anyone else in here. The guard stops and unlocks a door, which leads to another door.
We go through countless doors until we reach a small visitation room all the way on the far end of the building. And the air feels even colder here. I can hear nobody else on this side of the building and very little light seems to be coming in.
When we step inside, my father is seated with his hands shackled to a bar that is bolted to the center of the table. He looks up at me and I can feel the anger in his stare.
“They said I had a visitor,” he snarls. “I wasn’t expecting the two of you.”
He looks terrible. He is pale and the bags under his eyes are the darkest I’ve ever seen them. He also looks a lot less intimidating in his jail uniform than in the suit I usually see him in. It’s clear that he hasn’t been eating or sleeping well and it gives me just a little bit of joy.
I take a seat across the table from him and Edoardo moves a chair to sit next to me. The corners of his mouth are downturned and he looks at us as if we are the most disgusting creatures he has ever seen. I know that look, he’s looked at me like that before. It doesn’t bother me anymore.
“Why are you here then?” he barks at me. “Have you come to brag?”
“I’ve come to tell you that I am not pressing charges against you for what you did to me,” I say politely.
He leans back slightly, as if my response has taken him by surprise. And his eyes linger on us for a little while.
“That doesn’t matter,” he says. “The state is pressing charges and it is still your fault.”
“Oh come on, father,” I say with a cheeky smile. “I’m only following in your footsteps. Only, I am doing it better because there is actual evidence, and a real crime that has been committed.”
He stares blankly at me. “Isn’t that what you do when someone bothers you?” I ask. “You have them thrown in jail for something. Well, I’ve taken a page out of your book. It’s just a pity that the person who has been bothering me is you.”
Edoardo does his best not to laugh next to me, but a smirk breaks across his face and my father spots it.
“You’re actually guilty of this crime, though,” I continue. “So, I think it's a little less damaging to my karma.”
My response seems to have silenced my father and I know that it won’t last long. He’s never been able to let somebody else have the last word.
His shoulders relax and the scowl on his face fades slightly.
“I think I might actually be a little proud of you,” he says, taking me completely by surprise.
