Luca was still talking. My body was shaking.
I could see my mother’s face, her sprawled legs, her glazed expression. And I hated it. I hated him and his family and everything they had done to me and he was holding me again and I realized I was crying more tears even though I shouldn’t have had any left and his arms were too strong for me to move and I felt like I was suffocating and that made me want to hurt him and yell at him and tell him to get away from me. And I knew it wasn’t about Luca and I wanted to tell him that too but in the end I couldn’t tell him anything. I pushed away from him, stumbling backwards and falling in a heap on my bed.
‘Sophie.’ His voice was gruff. I could sense him pacing by the bed, though I wouldn’t look up at him.
‘Go away,’ I pleaded. ‘Just go away. Please. I need to be by myself. I need some time.’
‘OK,’ he relented finally. ‘If you need anything—’
‘I’ll be fine,’ I said hastily.
Luca pulled his switchblade from his back pocket and laid it on the bed beside me. ‘Just in case,’ he murmured.
I fingered the engraving, the swooping letters that I knew so well. Gianluca. ‘A Falcone switchblade for a Marino girl,’ I whispered. ‘Is this really what your grandfather would have wanted?’
He pulled something from his back pocket. ‘I’m not my grandfather.’ He held his hand out between us, and my gaze settled on Evelina’s ruby ring, resting in his palm. ‘And you are not your father.’
I glanced at the empty bedside table. He must have picked the ring up when I was sulking. God. He knew. He knew.
‘Life has dealt you a rough hand already,’ he said quietly, closing his fingers around the ring. ‘You don’t have to pay for his mistakes as well, Sophie.’ He moved to the door, pausing on the other side of it. ‘When you’re ready, come to us. We’ll give you Sanctuary. I’ll vouch for you, to the family and to my brother.’ He touched his head against the frame, and smiling sadly, he added, ‘Don’t forget, I still owe you that grand gesture, Marino Girl.’
My smile was watery. Why was it so damn difficult to look at him? I shut my eyes. ‘Please just go.’
And he did.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
THE BLOOD MOON
When they had all left, I let the memories engulf me. This time I didn’t push them away. The tears had come, and with them, some release. I showered and got dressed. Feeling stifled by the piercing silence, the constant feeling of loneliness inside me, I grabbed a hoodie and let myself out into the garden. I sat on the grass and pushed my thoughts outwards, beyond myself. The blood moon hung low above me, red ripples making grooves inside it. Patches of grey blotted the exterior, curving away into rivers of crimson. I lay back, burying my hands behind my head. My mother’s flowers dusted the air with sweetness, banishing the acrid memories of ash and dust.
Thoughts of the fire, of Jack, of rent and guardians and futures balanced on the edge of a knife, melted away. Memories of flames and smoke filtered into the balmy night air and the essence of my mother settled around me, gently this time, like a blanket laid across the earth. I looked up, past my house and the sadness in its walls. I was so tired, every muscle spent from being wound so tight. I had to plan, I knew that, but my thoughts were bleeding into the darkness around me. There was only the moon and the soft whispering of a warm breeze. And in the quiet comfort of the great big world and the beauty looking down on me I drifted asleep.
When I woke the sun was high in the sky. The backs of my arms were imprinted with grass blades and my hair had dried in crimped waves behind my head. My phone was buzzing. ‘Unknown’ flashed on the screen as I swiped my finger across it.
My voice was groggy with the dregs of sleep. ‘Hello?’
‘Sophie?’
I almost crushed the phone inside my fist. ‘Jack?’
‘I need to talk to you.’
‘Are you kidding?’ I sat poker-straight on the grass, blinking my surroundings into focus as my head threatened to explode. ‘The police are looking for you,’ I said, my voice turning thick and watery. ‘Mom is dead, did you know that, you selfish son of a bitch?’
Jack’s tone was businesslike. ‘It was an accident,’ he said briskly. ‘You know I didn’t want that to happen. The situation got away from us.’
I clutched my stomach, fighting the urge to vomit. ‘You let it happen. You’re a murderer.’
His reply was woven inside one long sigh. ‘You’re grieving, I understand, but there’ll be time for that later. I need you to meet me somewhere.’
He was wired to the moon and floating out of reality if he was dumb enough to think I would ever want anything to do with him again. ‘Are you crazy? Have you actually lost your mind?’
‘Donata wants me to bring you in now. Important things are at play. We’re Marinos, Sophie, don’t forget. And Marinos stick together.’