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“She is not your business.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Are you holding her against her will?”
“Yes.”
“My life is not a fairy tale,” my uncle says with no remorse.
“I got that.”
“I had to do a lot of bad shit to get where I am.”
If eyes are the mirror to the soul, well, my uncle is dead inside. There is no life, no light, but determination. As if he’s on a mission and that’s it.
“Why?”
“Revenge.”
There is no guilt or shame in his facial expressions. I allow myself to accept that his eyes, even though familiar, have scared me from the start because they’re soulless.
“Would it make any difference if I told you I’m happy you’re here?”
My mouth curls up in a small smile, and he says, “Rebecca talked so much about you.”
“She was a great mother.”
“For you.”
The next question is at the tip of my tongue when he says, “I have to leave for a few hours, but I will tell you everything you want to know.”
Uncle Hayden walks away, leaving me with too many questions and wonder if I will like the answers.
I follow the same path back to my room. Once inside, I take a long shower and crash on the bed, staring out the window at the sun rising lazily over the horizon.
Chiara walks into the room with an unsure step and says, “Can’t sleep.”
“Me neither.”
She climbs into bed next to me and we stare at the ceiling.
“Where do you want to go after this?”
“Back to England. Resume my studies. I just need a passport.”
“And money.”
“Yes, that too.”
“I’ll ask my uncle.”
“I don’t want his money.”
“It’s not up to you if you want it or not at this point.”
“You’re mad at me,” Chiara whispers.
I shake my head and place my hand on hers.
“No, I’m not. I’m worried, that’s all.”
