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Me:
You’re coming to Italy???
That’s all I sent, a simple question. Then again, she’s been ignoring most of my messages over the last few weeks, ever since I left Australia. We were there to celebrate my birthday. I might have given her more than she bargained for that night. But she wanted it, just as much as I did.
I want to send her another message. I want to know why she’s trying to force distance between us all of a sudden. We’ve always been close. As soon as we got our first phones as kids, we messaged each other constantly. I refuse to believe that one night has fucked up our entire friendship. I won’t allow it. Lucky for her, I’m fucking patient. I’ll wait her out. If my mom has her facts right, Kyla McKinley will be in Italy. And not only will she be there, but she’ll also be staying at our house. She won’t be able to hide from me then.
I watch my nonno open the door to the bedroom where my grandmother is sleeping, while his words have me out of my seat and heading for the door. I don’t think anyone else heard him, but I sure as fuck did. If something is wrong with Nonna, I want to know what it is. I press my ear to the closed door, not giving a damn about who sees me snooping, and can just make out the exchange on the other side of the wall.
“I can’t remember, T,” my grandmother says.
“You can’t remember what?” Nonno replies.
“I can’t remember coming in here to lie down. It’s started, hasn’t it?” she asks him.
My mind is whirling. What the fuck is going on? I pull out my phone and send a message to my dad. Thank god for the Wi-Fi on this jet.
Me:
Pops, meet me in the kitchen. Alone.
I watch as he looks down at his phone, then his head lifts and he makes eye contact with me. I nod to the kitchen and turn around.
“What’s up?” he asks, popping up beside me a moment later.
“What’s wrong with Nonna?” I question him.
My father’s brows draw down, and then I see the worry creeping across his face. My father is usually really good at masking his expressions, just like my grandfather and all of my uncles. It’s part of the life. Right now, though, he’s not hiding it.
“What do you mean?”
“I just overheard her, in the bedroom, talking to Nonno. She was crying. She said something about not remembering and mentioned that it’s started. What’s started, Pops?”
My dad’s face falls, like something has finally clicked into place, and he’s bothered by whatever it is he sees. “I don’t know, Lorenzo. I’m sure it’s nothing. She probably had a nightmare or something. You kids haven’t exactly been easy on the family lately. Especially your sister,” he tells me.
I don’t believe him, but I’ll drop it for now. “I’ll keep a closer eye on Aurora, keep her out of trouble.” I nod to reiterate my point.
Dad sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “That’s not your job, Lorenzo. It’s mine. Maybe I’ve been spending too much time at the office? I might talk to Livvy about hiring another attorney and cutting back on my hours.”
“It’s not because you work, Pops. It’s because she’s stubborn and wants to grow up before her time. She usually has good intentions. She’s a good kid at heart. She just has a lot to learn,” I tell him.
“I know she does and is. She reminds me a lot of Izzy. She was just as crazy at Aurora’s age.”
Izzy is my dad’s cousin, our second cousin, and she’s stilljust as crazyif you ask me. “Well, she turned out all right.” I shrug.
“She married a fucking Russian, Lorenzo. She could have turned out better,” Dad grunts. Although I know he and Mikhail, Izzy’s husband, are friends now, there was no love lost between them at the start.
“Okay, but if therewassomething going on with Nonna, you’d tell me, right?”
“If there were anything to tell you, I would. You overheard an exchange that could be anything, Lorenzo. Ma’s fine,” he assures me before adding, “She has to be.”
My phone dings with an incoming message. I’m quick to pull the device out of my pocket. It could be Kyla finally replying to my text.
Fucking hell, she has me acting like a goddamn schoolgirl waiting for the jock to pay her some attention. I’m used to those roles being reversed. This is bullshit.
When I read her message, though, fuck… My knuckles turn white as I grip the phone.
Kyla:
