Ettore did not speak for a heartbeat, but when he did, I could hear his resentment. “How easy that would be for you. You would leave me to agonize with your memory while you move on from this life. No. If I have to suffer through this existence, so will you.” What he said next was stone cold and laced with fury. “In this family, we bleed together.”

Those last words resonated with me deeply, but while Ettore meant them in a way that spoke of family love and loyalty, I heard them as a threat. And I thought of my sister.

In our family, we didn’t bleed together, but when Vincenza bled, she did not hesitate to put a blade to my flesh and drain me just the same. I felt awful – truly awful – that this time away from her had been pleasant in some ways.

I tried not to think about what she would ask of me if I were ever to make it out of here.

I didn’t want to think on it.

Now, as Daniele worked on the last window, right by the kitchen, I knew it would be my only chance to speak to him. I got up off the couch, made my way to the fridge and filled a glass of water. I leant against the counter, putting the cool rim of the glass to my mouth, asking, “How is he?” before sipping on the iced water.

Daniele did not spare a glance as he fitted the bars on the outside of the window and was aloof as they come when he uttered nonchalantly, “He’s good. He’s great. He’s busy running the streets and raising his kids.” My silence caused him to glimpse at me a second before saying, “What? You thought he’d be wrecked? Please. You were nothing but a blip on his radar. Don’t flatter yourself, honey.”

I set my glass down. “I wasn’t insinuating he was distraught or anything.”

He drilled on one side and when he was done, he muttered, “So, what is it you want to know?” The other side was then secured and the high-pitched squeal the drill gave off was excruciating. “Oh. I get ya.” There was that smirk again and his brow rose. “His bed ain’t cold, if that’s what you’re gettin’ at.”

Right.

Numbness spread through my chest.

Ettore was grown. He was a purely sexual male. Did I expect him to wait? Wait for what? He hated me.

As I suffered through the beginnings of a mental breakdown, it was only polite to ask, “And the kids?”

“Don’t even remember your name,” he said dispassionately.

I know what he was up to. Daniele was trying to hurt me, and succeeding.

“Good,” I said with a straight face, which was pretty hard to do when your insides were melting away.