Page 210 of Caterina
The door closes behind Adrian, and the lock slides into place.
For one second, I cannot move.
I just stand there, staring at the steel door, my lips still tingling from his kiss and my heart trying to claw its way out of my chest.
Come back.
I ordered him to come back.
As if orders can stop bullets. As if I can command the world to be fair because I spoke firmly.
Behind me, one of the girls lets out a small, broken sound.
That is what snaps me back.
Not the fact that the man I love just walked out into my house alone while people with guns search for us.
A child crying.
I turn.
Charlotte is pressed against Lucia’s side, face buried in her mother’s dress. Sofia is standing stiffly beside Nick, trying so hard to be brave that it makes my throat ache. Gabriel is fussing now, his little face scrunched, one tiny fist waving near Lucia’s collarbone.
Cristiano is awake in Teresa’s arms, not crying yet, but close. Emma is blinking around the room, her lower lip pushed out in confusion.
The children.
It always comes back to the children.
“Okay,” I say, and my voice sounds strange to my own ears. Too calm. Too thin. “Everybody breathe.”
Vito gives me a look that says he is not in the mood for breathing exercises.
Neither am I.
But the girls are watching us now, and I know what they need to see.
Not panic.
Not helplessness.
Adults.
Lucia lowers herself to the floor with Gabriel still in her arms and pulls Charlotte closer. “It’s all right, baby,” she whispers. “We’re going to stay here for a little while.”
Charlotte’s voice is muffled. “Why?”
“Because Adrian says this is the safest room,” Nick answers before Lucia has to.
That seems to help a little.
Sofia looks at me. “Is someone bad outside?”
The question makes the room go quiet for a second.
Everyone in this room knows about danger and enemies. Growing up a Conti, it comes with the territory. But the kids, they don’t know about it yet. They’re too young.
Too young to learn? I hoped so, but I guess not.
