Page 58 of Milo

"Milo." Marchello squats down beside my victim. "Milo!"

"Kiara…” Milo’s face is so close to mine but I can't see it, it's invisible, non-existent, a blur. "I'll be right back. Just breathe."

Breathe.

I can't breathe. It hurts to breathe. Every breath I take feels like knives are spearing my throat, my lungs, my heart.

I shouldn't breathe. I should stop. If I don't breathe then it won't hurt. Then it'll go away. It'll all go away.

But—

But I deserve the pain. I deserve the agony. The suffering.

I deserve it all.

I inhale, sucking in the cold air around me, filling my body with torment, with evil.

Andre's evil.

It's inside me now. A part of me.

His hatred, his contempt, his life.

It's a part of me.

Marchello places two fingers on Andre's pulse point, craning his head up to meet Milo's eyes. “He is?—"

"I know," Milo says. "Handle it. Tomorrow we leave for Genova."

"You need a doctor," Marchello notes as he brings himself to his feet. "She will meet you at Julia's. Leave the rest with me."

Screeching tires. Headlights. Commotion. Italian. French. Everything is jumbled. Nothing clear. Static. Torturous static.

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.

"Kiara, we need to leave," Milo says. "Can you stand up?"

He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside quiet waters.

Milo winces, snaking his right arm around my paralyzed body. He lifts me to his chest, every movement gentle, controlled, tender. "Gio, get the door."

He refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name's sake.

Leather. Fresh leather. The scent is nauseating, sickening, dizzying.

Milo pulls his cellphone out of his pocket and dials a number. "Julia, something has happened."

Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me, your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

Comfort me.

Comfort.

No.

No!

I'm sorry, Nana. I can't. I just can't. It's not enough. These words aren't enough. These verses, these passages, these testaments of good and hope and faith.