I try to control my breathing. The silence drives me insane, the need to fill it takes over. Not knowing how to restart the chat, I pick at my cuticles until they bleed.

My hands tremble, so I put them in my lap, but not fast enough to go unnoticed by Elias. He glances from them to my face, and I wonder if it made him uncomfortable.

“Who takes care of the plants, if you don’t mind me asking?” he says, maybe trying to hide the awkwardness.

“Me.” I take a deep breath, ready for him to tell me how bad I am at it.

Elias picks up a few fallen leaves from the ground and stares at them with those big eyes that remind me of his sister’s. They are full of life, with curiosity glistening in them.

“You did a pretty good job.” He cocks a smile and my heart goes funny.

Was that the same thing Nonna would say?

She was a lot like Elias: speaking with flowers, occasionally petting them, singing around them. Well, I didn’t hear Elias singing to them just yet, but it sounds like something he’d do.

His effortless compliment has made me feel a little better about myself.

CHAPTER EIGHT

ELIAS

“What’s her name, son?” my father asks from across the table, passing the salt to Mom.

The fork stops halfway to my mouth. My eyes dart from Olivia to Mom, from Mom to Dad, from Dad to Mom. I take a bite of salad to buy more time.

They took me by surprise. One moment we were talking about how happy they are that I’m back, then the next moment it took a U-turn. And what a turn.

Mom raises her brow. She’s resting her elbows on the table with her chin between two of her fingers. I smile as I chew and point at my mouth to show I can’t talk just yet.

Olivia straightens in her seat and shoots me a quick glance before saying, “Indigo.”

I almost spit the food out of my mouth.

“What a lovely name!” Mom’s eyes sparkle at me, and Dad nods while he takes a bite of his pork.

Clearing my throat, I resist the urge to kick Olivia under the table. Mom’s gaze is persistent. It’s glistening with curiosity.

I shuffle the food around on my plate, mainly to keep my hands occupied so I don’t strangle Olivia, and try to think of a way to get out of this.

Things have gone pretty well between Indigo and me for the past week. We’ve spent time at the tree while I worked, no matter how cold it got with each passing day. We chatted about insignificant things. Most of the time, I was the one doing the speaking, but she was constantly giving me bits of herself.