Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
After a moment, they led us out the side door, the one Dad always used to take out the trash and recycling bins. Once on the sidewalk, my head whipped in every direction as I looked for Marco, but I never found him. Maybe that was a good thing. God, I hoped that was a good thing. They ushered us into the back of an ambulance. I was still shaking from the adrenaline, reeling as if I’d drank an entire bottle of Red Bull. They set me on one bench and tended to me while they did the same to my brother across from me.
“Dad is okay,” he mouthed. “Dad is okay.”
My heart stopped for a moment and I started crying again. Everything else was a blur. The only thing I knew was that I couldn’t stop shaking and I still couldn’t hear a thing.
38
ROSIE
It was my fifth day at the hospital. Five days of IVs. Five days of probing. Five days of missing work. Five days of nothingness. I glanced at the flowers on the table next to the sink. Everyone sent flowers. I had so many they barely fit on one side of the room, so many I could open up a flower shop right here. Roses from Catalina and Lorenzo, wildflowers from Madam Albert, succulents from Veronica and Patty, daisies from Joshua, peonies from Petra and John, more roses from Rocco, and sunflowers that came with no card but I knew were from him. Every time I thought of him, I felt my eyes burn with fresh tears. I felt so incredibly hurt by him. He hadn’t come to the hospital once, as far as I knew, and I asked. The only people I hadn’t asked were Dad and Santi, and that was because I was afraid they’d flip out on me for caring about the man “responsible for this.” I knew that was what they’d say, and for Dad, I had a comeback ready, because this had nothing to do with Dominic. This was Anthony’s warning for us not to step out of line.
At the sight of the door opening, my eyes swung from the flowers to Yari, who was walking in with a brown bag in her hand. Every day, she’d visited with food from the outside. That was what she called it, like if I was in prison. She smiled brightly and pointed at her ear, her way of asking whether or not my hearing had returned. I brought a hand up to signal so-so and she smiled brighter as she pulled up the chair to sit next to me and set the bag on the table in front of me.
“Can you hear me now?” she asked. She sounded like she was underwater.
“A little.”
She reached into the bag and started taking out food. Today, she brought lox bagels from Russ & Daughters. Normally, I’d be awed and ask her how long she had to wait to get in there, but I couldn’t find it in myself to care. I ate in silence as she leaned in close for me to hear and told me all about some guy who hired her to be his date for a wedding in Dubai. A week-long affair, she said. When we were finished, she took our trash and discarded it before coming back and sitting next to me. I kept my eyes on the sunflowers. She set a hand on my fingers, careful not to touch the IV in my hand, and squeezed so I’d look at her. I did.
“He was here,” she said. “Your brother asked him to leave, and Ros, you know he had every right to.”
I nodded slowly.
“He looked like shit. Like he hadn’t slept in days,” she said. “I don’t know if that gives you peace or not, but I figured you should know.”
I looked back at the sunflowers. He’d been here and Santi hadn’t mentioned it. Did it even matter?
Something touching my hand startled me awake. I jolted, eyes popping open with a gasp. The room was dark now. The nurse had switched off the lights and promised she’d leave me alone for a few hours, but I didn’t need light to tell me Dominic was here. I turned my hand over so that his covered the entirety of my palm and moved it to squeeze his. He hung his head like a defeated man, the sight of it making my throat grip painfully. I squeezed his hand harder and tugged for him to come closer. He pulled the chair behind him, moved the safety rail down, getting as close as he could, the top half of his body flush against mine as he lifted a hand to my hair, my face, my neck, examining me. He’d find nothing. There was nothing on me that would hint at what was wrong with me, only raw skin around my wrists from where I’d tried to tug free. The only reason I was still here was dehydration and high blood pressure. Santi and Dad were let go the next day, Santi with minor scratches, Dad after they cleared him after they cleared him for the concussion he got from getting hit by the butt of a gun. We’d been lucky. That was what the nurses and doctors and police officers kept repeating. We’d been lucky. Maybe we had been.