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“There’s something else.” She shoots a furtive look toward the camera before reaching into the pocket of her oversized cardigan and withdrawing a folded piece of paper. The sight of it makes my heart skip a beat. I’m hungrier for word from Luca than I’ve ever been for food, and instinct tells me that’s what his sister has brought.
I take the paper in my trembling hand and unfold it while Guilia looks away like she’s giving me privacy. Emotion rises in my chest at the sight of a hastily scribbled message.
Don’t worry. I’m coming for you.
“He gave it to Mama,” Guilia murmurs. “And she asked me to bring it to you.”
“Thank you.” I tuck the note under my blanket since I don’t want Rocco to find me obsessing over it while he’s spying on me.
He’s thinking of me. He wants me not to worry. He’s coming for me.
I don’t know when, but I believe him, and that belief strengthens me.
“Are you thirsty?” She pulls out a bottle of water from the other pocket of her long cardigan. “I didn’t want it to fall off the tray and knock everything else off with it,” she explains with an awkward little laugh. “How are you feeling?”
Something about this girl and her openness is refreshing, almost disarming. I don’t know how to react to her. “Tired,” I murmur, eyeing the covered plate on the tray.
“You’re probably starving. I’m sorry. Please, eat.” She lifts the lid with a flourish, revealing a stack of French toast, bacon, and sausage. There’s also a small bowl of berries and a tiny pitcher of syrup. I’ve stayed in hotels with a less impressive breakfast spread.
It isn’t easy to speak with saliva flooding my mouth. “Thank you so much. I was starting to think everybody forgot about me.”
It was an innocent comment, and it was the truth, but Guilia’s dark eyes go wide anyway. “Oh, trust me. Nobody’s forgotten about you. You’re all anybody can talk about around here.”
Now, I’m hungry for something beyond food, but that doesn’t stop me from digging in with abandon. This is a far cry from the shitty pancakes Luca made. “I’ve caused a lot of trouble, haven’t I?” I ask with my mouth full.
“You and Luca! You can’t take all the blame.”
I can tell there’s something she wants to ask. She keeps opening her mouth, sucking in a breath like she’s prepared to speak, then her mouth snaps shut, and she looks down at her folded hands. I wonder if she has a lot of friends, and if it’s possible to have a normal social life when you’re from a family like this. What would it be like, always guarded, constantly aware of the danger that could lurk around every corner? Because surely, she must know. There’s no way she grew up here, among these men, without knowing what they do.
“How is he?” I whisper. It’s a big risk, but she seems sympathetic. She might be my only shot at hearing anything about Luca.
She chews her lip, frowning. “I’d get in trouble for telling you.”
“I do not want you to get in trouble,” I assure her right away. “You can’t tell me anything, and I get it. Just… is he okay?”
She starts bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. “I really shouldn’t, but I want to…” She throws her hands into the air with a sigh. “Papa’s making him stay in his house. There’s somebody at the door day and night, so he can’t leave.”
Somehow, in all the scenarios I have imagined while lying here alone, that one never entered my mind. “Why?” I whisper, forgetting the food as I ponder this.
“Promise you won’t tell?” she asks, and I trace an X over my heart. “Okay. I wasn’t supposed to be listening, but I heard Luca say he would stay there and stay away from you so long as Papa promised to help you. You must’ve bled a ton, and Luca was out of his mind. I have never seen him like that, and it made me cry. It made Mama cry too. I thought he was going to start throwing things around, he was that upset.”
“Over me?” I can’t picture it, but damn if this doesn’t make me think this is real between us.
“Yeah, over you. He promised he would do whatever Papa wants, but you had to be safe first.” She offers a tiny shrug. “I’m sorry, but it’s kind of romantic. Like he was ready to hurt somebody if they got in his way. I know I’m not supposed to know about any of this, and I know for sure Papa would kill me if he knew I told you, but I can’t help how I feel about it.”
“Thank you for telling me,” I whisper, reeling, almost dumbstruck, before something occurs to me. I look up at the camera, then at her. “I’m being watched,” I whisper, horrified.
She waves it off. “Don’t worry about it. There’s no audio.”
I’m starting to wonder who got the brains in this family because Guilia is pleasantly surprising me. “You are a very observant person, aren’t you?”
“I pay attention,” she admits with a grin. “And now I better go. Are you gonna be okay? Do you need anything else right now?”
He was violently upset. He’s being kept from me but slipped a note to his mother to bring up here. He deserves to hear from me. “Do you have a pen?”
Her eyes twinkle as she reaches into her pocket once again. “I thought you would want to write him back. This is so romantic, I’m going to scream.”
“Don’t do that,“ I murmur with a grin, taking the pen and jotting down a note for Luca across a paper napkin. What to say? There isn’t enough room for everything I’m carrying in my heart. I settle for keeping it short and sweet.
