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“Why don’t you?” Cecilia asks, guanine curiosity in her voice.
“Because I don’t live here anymore. Besides, Mom doesn’t always appreciate me checking on her. So, one of you should go do it.”
It’s clear no one else is going to take the bait, so I sigh and say, “I’ll do it.”
“Thank you.” Gemma looks incredibly relieved. I’m not sure why. It’s not like I’m saving the world or anything. I’m just going to see how Mom is doing.
I go to her room and stop outside the door. It’s open a crack, and I can hear Franco talking to her. I start to walk away when his voice makes me stop.
“You will look at me when I talk to you.”
I’ve never heard Franco sound so aggressive. Like everyone in the house, he usually ignores me. But something about how he’s talking to Mom makes me look through the crack in the door.
Franco has his hands on Mom’s arms. Tightly, by the looks of it. He’s causing her pain. Mom refuses to look at him. “Giulia,” he growls. And before my eyes, he smacks her across the face.
I step back, covering my mouth with my hands. Mom cries out and begs him to stop. I want to rush in there and protect her, but my feet are rooted to the spot.
“You need to listen to me,” he says. “Get Francesca married now, and make sure it’s a good match that benefits our family. You brought this on yourself by waiting so long.” He makes his way toward the door.
I scramble into the bathroom across the hall and shut the door, leaving it just a crack open. Franco bursts out of my mom’s room, muttering to himself as he walks down the hallway.
What just happened? I’ve never seen Franco do that to my mom before. Granted, I don’t really pay attention much to other people. I’m usually daydreaming and in my own head. Has this happened before? I know Mom has lost some of her color since we lost Dad, but now I can’t help but wonder if Franco has helped subdue her color. If this has happened before, how could Mom keep it from us?
Maybe this was the first time, and if that’s the case, Mom needs my help. The only problem is, I can’t move. I’m too scared.
After a few minutes, Mom leaves her room and walks right across the hall to the bathroom. Where I am.
I stumble back when she enters, freezing at the sight of me.
“Francesca?”
“Um …”
Her eyes widen, and she looks toward her room. “Are … did …”
Everything feels fuzzy, and I can barely breath, so I do the one thing I’m good at. Running and hiding.
I walk past Mom and hurry down the stairs. She doesn’t stop me. I burst outside into the backyard. Despite the cold, I walk farther into the yard, trying to clear my head. I’m a coward. Franco hit my mom, and I didn’t help her.
How could I not help her?
Deep in my mind, I wonder if it were in the same position, would she have helped me? Or would she brush me off like she normally does?
That’s no excuse, though. I should have helped, and I didn’t.
I start to shiver and turn to go back inside when I slip on a patch of ice and land on my back, all the breath leaving my body. I groan as I stare up at the night sky, the stars actually shining through all the clouds tonight. I lay there for a few seconds, consumed with an overpowering emotion.
Guilt.
I know if Gemma or Emilia had seen that go down, they’d have confronted Franco. I’ve seen them do it before, but I never understood the reason. I think I understand now.
Has Franco been hurting my mom for six years, and I’ve been so caught up in my own solitude I never noticed? The issue is I’m not brave like my two older sisters. Emilia had the courage to move across the country for a marriage alliance to a man she never met, all in an effort to protect our family. And Gemma, even when kidnapped, never lost her courage.
But me? I’m the invisible girl who everyone either forgets or doesn’t pay attention to. I’ve gotten so used to living my life for myself that I haven’t noticed anyone else’s. How ironic is that?
I should go check on my mom and make sure she’s ok. That’s something I can do, at least.
I push myself up and limp inside, my leg on fire from the pain of landing on it. Gemma and Viktor have left now, leaving only Cecilia behind in the kitchen to do dishes. Antonio is probably in his room playing a video game while Mia is likely in the bathroom, lamenting over her pimples. As for the twins? Well, if they’re not causing destruction, then that’s a good day.
