Page 42 of Capuleto

"Calm down? Either you tell me right now what the hell happened to my husband and where he is, or I'm going to kill you and your whole damn family." —She looked at me horrified.

The last thing she expected that day was to get a threat from a woman dressed in bubblegum pink, who looked more like a Malibu Barbie than a mafia boss.

"You have to wait for the doctor to come out..."

She must not have taken me very seriously, at most, she might have thought I was going to claw her eyes out.

"Not a doctor, not bullshit, where is Romeo Capulet?!" I was about to pull out my gun to threaten her while my sister-in-law watched the scene unfold.

"Daughter, what is happening?!"

I turned around to come face to face with the queen of the Russian soap opera. There was my mother looking distressed and clinging to the arm of her inseparable new lover: my father-in-law. Irisha was also there, surrounded by a couple of bodyguards.

"Father!" exclaimed my sister-in-law, taking refuge in her father's arms. My mother had to let go, and Irisha came over to ask if I was okay.

"We don't know what happened, or how Romeo and Dante are. This incompetent woman won't speak," I complained, pointing at the receptionist.

She huffed with indignation and picked up the phone. Maybe to call security to have me thrown out. Or to ignore me by making calls.

A doctor emerged from between two swinging doors, asking for the relatives of Romeo Capulet, to which we replied with a desperate "yes."

"Where is he?" I asked frantically. "Is he okay?"

"We've treated the cuts and burns he sustained. Don't worry, he's fine, a bit intoxicated by the amount of smoke he inhaled, but alive, which is the important part. We've moved him to a ward; you'll be able to see him soon."

"Thank God," muttered his sister, still clinging to Massimo.

"And Dante?" I asked, knowing that Romeo would be the first thing he'd ask about as soon as he saw us.

"Who are you?" The doctor frowned, considering whether to answer me.

"Nikita Koroleva, Romeo's wife." My answer seemed to convince him.

"His condition is critical; all I can say is that your husband was a hero for not leaving him behind in that state."

"What condition?" I pressed.

"This type of information can only be given to direct relatives."

"We are his family, even if we don't share the same last name," interjected Massimo. "Dante has no one else but us."

"Your son told me something similar."

"Well, then, tell us how he is," urged my father-in-law.

The doctor crossed his arms and let out a resigned sigh.

"All I can tell you for now is that we are keeping him sedated and alive. He's intubated, connected to a mechanical ventilator in the ICU. He has 90% of his body burned, and we don't know if he'll make it through the night." Julieta let out another cry and began to sob desperately on her father's chest. "We'll do everything we can, but it would be a miracle if he pulls through." Massimo nodded.

"We'll pray for him."

"Do so, at this point, your faith and the patient's strength are the only things that can save him. We've done everything we can."

"Thank you, doctor," my mother said, as if she cared about Dante...

We waited at the admission desk until the grumpy receptionist gave us the floor number and room.

When I entered the room, all I could think about was seeing him breathe.

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