Page 28 of Satin Empire

“I know,” he says, nodding and sighing as he stretches. “I’ll miss coming over. It was fun having you down the block.”

Noah’s family is only a few houses away, which means he’s always in and out, practically coming and going as he pleases. Orsino complains sometimes, but Noah never seems to care, and my stepfather can’t seem to keep the kid away. Most of the time, Orsino grumbles and refers to Noah as “my freeloading nephew.”

“Maybe you can come visit the new place,” I say, feeling hopeful, but as soon as the words are out, it just feels wrong. Carlo’s place is like another universe even though it’s only across the city. “I mean, once I get settled and stuff.”

“Whenever you’re ready, I’d love to meet the man that finally pinned down the elusive Alana.”

I snort and punch him in the leg, which leads to him howling and whining about how I’m too aggressive.

We end up packing the rest of the room together. There are a lot of memories in this place, even if a lot of them are bad, and we reminisce a lot about the good old days—which means like last week.

As I’m finishing up and Noah’s taping the last few boxes, there’s another knock. This time, the door opens and it’s Niccolo, home from school. The little guy comes storming into the room, shrieks like a maniac, and dive-bombs right into my arms, knocking me back as he wriggles and squirms, doing his best to hug me as hard as his little arms can.

“Easy there, sometimes you forget that you’re not little anymore.”

“Mom says you’re leaving.” He pulls back and there are tears on his face. Niccolo used to be the biggest crybaby in the world, but Orsino was always so hard on him, and he managed to get control of the tears as he got older. But now that self-control is blasted away, and I’m not about to be the one to correct him, since I’m about to cry too.

“It’ll be okay, I promise,” I say and hug him close. “I’ll be back all the time to visit. It’s not like I’m leaving the city.”

“Mom says you’re moving to South Philly. That’s like, the other side of the world.”

I laugh because it probably does feel like that to a seven-year-old. “It’s really not, I promise.”

“It isn’t fair, Lana. You’re supposed to be my bestie.”

“I’m still your bestie, big guy.” I squeeze him so hard I’m afraid I might crack a little rib. Even though Niccolo was basically thrust on me and I had to grow up real fast because of him, I never once resented my little brother. I love him way too much to blame him for Mom and Orsino’s terrible decisions. He never had a say in any of it.

“Noah’s going to be mean to me now that you’re gone,” he says, sounding completely miserable.

“Hey, that’s not true,” Noah says but he doesn’t seem particularly upset about the accusation. The two of them bicker way too much.

“I’ll come home and smack Noah if he says anything mean to you, okay? You call me the second he’s a jerk and I’ll be here so fast you’ll forget I was ever gone, alright?”

Niccolo sniffles. “You promise?”

“I swear. I’ll break Noah’s big nose.”

“Hey, my nose is average,” he complains.

“Deal.” Niccolo beams but it quickly fades and he hugs me again. “It isn’t fair. I don’t want you to leave.”

I don’t want to leave either, bud. I keep a brave face and tell him everything will be fine. Then he’s using the tape to help Noah and the pair of them are sniping at each other, mostly just teasing and having a good time, and that’s when the movers arrive.

Signaling the end of my life.

It’s hard to explain how it feels to watch your whole existence get thrown in the back of a truck, only to realize that you don’t have all that much stuff. My twenty-one years of life get boiled down to ten boxes, three of which aren’t even full. I don’t take any furniture, since Carlo’s got everything I need, and my meager possessions look pathetic. Even the movers seem disappointed.

“I love you, Lana,” Niccolo says, hugging me on the sidewalk.

“I’ll be back soon, maybe even tomorrow, I promise.”

Orsino and Mom stand up near the door. My stepfather grunts at that. “Better not be. I married you off for a reason.”

And for once in her life, Mom grows a spine, even if it’s a tiny one. She smacks her husband’s arm, gives him a glare, and skips down to wrap me in her arms. “You’re the best daughter I ever could’ve asked for,” she whispers. “Thank you. And I love you.”

“Yeah, love you too, Mom.” Because after all this, I can’t be mad at her. We’ve been through too much together, and she’s had it too hard for me to hate her decisions. I understand them too well, and I’m not sure I’d do any of it differently if our roles were reversed.

I feel like a kid going to college, except I’m not. I’m headed off to my husband’s house, to the stranger’s apartment that I’ll call home for a while. No freedom for me, no new experiences, no spreading my wings and all that—only more domestic servitude, more weeks spent locked in another cage, all because that’s convenient for everyone else around me.

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