Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 64176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
“Does it hurt knowing he isn’t there for you? Knowing he abandoned you?”
“He didn’t abandon me. He saved himself. I love him enough to wish happiness for him wherever he is.”
I cock my head to the side, studying her. “Why do you stay, Michela, if you hate the family so much? Why do you raise your son by my rules?”
“You mean Father’s rules.”
“I mean exactly what I said.”
A sly smile stretches her lips. She knows this particular button to push. “You just keep telling yourself that. And I’m not too proud to say that if I had any choice, I wouldn’t stay. I would never have returned. But our father made sure I had no choices, didn’t he?”
“He wants his grandson near.”
“Not out of any affection for either of us. Tell me something, is it only a matter of time before he forces Lucas back? He is the firstborn, Damian. If he returns, doesn’t that weaken your position?”
Another button. But I don’t let it show. I don’t let anything show.
“He’s firstborn by one minute.” We were delivered by C-section but technically, Lucas came first.
“Still.”
“And besides, I am the Di Santo family now. No one, and that means not my father or my brother, and certainly not you, can change that.”
“See, that’s the thing, and I think it kills you. Lucas doesn’t want it. But if he did, Father would give it to him in a heartbeat. He’d hand it all over, all your hard work wrapped up nice and pretty just for him.”
“Our father isn’t up to the task, is he?” He’s deteriorated over the last eight years to the point I wonder how he’s held on at all.
“All of it taken from you,” she says, ignoring me and snapping her fingers. “Just like that.”
I study her as the car pulls into the circular entrance of the exclusive property. “Perhaps we should have a repeat of that lesson after all, Sis.”
That shuts her up.
I watch as the blood drains from her face.
The driver opens her door, but she doesn’t move. She opens her mouth to say something, but I don’t want to hear any more from her.
“Good night, Michela,” I say, turning away. Dismissing her.
3
Cristina
I pack a bag, just a few things. Some clothes, a journal, my laptop, and a few schoolbooks although I’m not sure I’ll be returning to school.
All that talk of the foundation, about my father’s associates, I can’t really process it. I hadn’t really given much thought to it or my inheritance of it. I just figured my uncle would continue to manage it in my name.
I take Sofia, my now ratty rabbit, and put her in the middle of my bed as I write a note to Simona. She’s barely six. How could they take her like that? I can only imagine how scared she must have been.
Liam told me what had happened. How they’d lured my cousin to them, how they’d used Michela’s son to help.
Dear Simona,
I have to go on an unexpected trip, and I’ll probably be gone by the time you wake up. I’m sorry I won’t get to say goodbye, but I was hoping you could take care of Sofia for me while I’m away. You’re always so good with her, and she loves you so much.
I will be back to visit you as soon as I can.
Love,
Cristina
I tuck the note into Sofia’s little furry arms, then go to my closet. Kneeling, I move the boxes of shoes off the one I want, not letting myself pause for too long on the one where I hid the ribbons and notes all these years. I wish I’d never kept them now. Wish I could burn them.
I stop at the last box. It’s for a pair of kid’s shoes. Shoes that belonged to my brother.
Pulling it out, I sit with it on my lap and trace the faded design on the lid. The little smiling bear is walking in his brand-new sneakers while carrying what was once a bright red balloon. Scott and I each had a pair. I don’t even know what it was about them that we loved, but I remember how happy we were to get them.
My chest tightens, and my throat closes up. My body’s physical response to any memory of my brother is always the same. It never gets easier, not even years after his death. I miss him. I think a part of me will always miss him.
I wipe the back of my hand across my face and take off the lid. From inside, I take out the stuffed rabbit that looks much like Sofia except that where Sofia’s ears are pink, Patty’s ears are blue.
Patty. I had teased him so badly about that name that I’d made him cry.
I bring Patty to my nose to see if the smell is the same, but any hint of Scott is long gone. He just smells of neglect.