Page 242 of Dante
I turn to Dante.
He's watching me.
His face is pale. His jaw is tight. His hands hang at his sides.
He knew.
The realization hits me like a punch to the chest.
He knew Lorenzo was alive.
He knew this whole time.
He watched Sophia collapse at the cemetery. He watched her scream. He watched her try to throw herself into an empty grave.
And he said nothing.
"Dante." My voice comes out strangled. "What?—"
He shakes his head.
"Not yet," he says quietly. "Let them have this moment."
I look back at Lorenzo and Sophia.
She's still crying. Still clinging to him. Still shaking like she might shatter into a thousand pieces.
Bruno hasn't moved.
He stands frozen. Staring at his brother. His face is blank. Unreadable.
Then something cracks.
His composure breaks.
He crosses the room. Drops to his knees beside Lorenzo and Sophia. Wraps his arms around both of them.
Every one in the room does the same.
All of them hold each other.
Crying.
Alive.
Together.
I don't understand.
I don't understand any of this.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Dante
The room settles.
Bodies lower into seats. The family arranges itself around the dining table like they've done a thousand times before.
