Page 78 of Don't Let Go

Another EMT put a hand on Rory’s shoulder. “You can come with us to the hospital, but you need to let us help her.”

Both the EMTs knew Lizzy was gone. She looked like a doll, frozen for all eternity.

I stood next to Rory, offering her my hand. “I got you,” I said.

She finally released her baby sister and wrapped her scarlet-coated arms around my legs. My stomach shook, and my mouth was dry. I couldn’t imagine how Rory was feeling. First to witness her father getting shot and now her baby sister, there was no way to explain how that could feel.

Carmen was on the phone, away in the grass, calling their mom. She kept repeating herself because her tears kept cutting off her voice.

“We have a weak pulse,” the EMT shouted from inside the ambulance before the other EMT slammed the door shut and ran to the driver’s seat.

After the fire truck and ambulance left, I noticed we had piqued the neighbors’ interest. They hung out in their front yards, acting like they were checking the mail or getting the paper. Some sat on the porch with their coffee as if our tragedy was a show to them.

I coaxed Rory to stand up. We left the scene as it was, backpacks on the ground and glass sprinkled around like sharp glitter. All that was left of Lizzy was her pink right shoe, her bloodstain on the cement, and the phone she was reaching for on the driver’s seat of the car.

The police put up yellow caution tape around the carport and escorted us inside to talk about what happened. As if we could explain what happened to Lizzy like it was the weather report or a summary of some movie plot.

Rory clung to me as we settled on the couch. “They will pay,” she muttered under her breath.

“What?” I asked gingerly, looking up at the two police officers. They were busy talking in the living room and taking notes as Carmen spoke.

“They’ll all pay,” she said again. Her face was blank of expression. Her jaw was set. Her nails dug into my arm like cat claws. What scared me the most were her eyes. Her once beautiful jade-green eyes that made me feel like a siren was staring into my soul turned soulless black. As if all the light was snatched out of her, leaving only darkness and destruction. She looked out at nothing as if plotting, as if my siren was slipping away, turning into something else, turning into something sinister.

32

Aurora

Mamma came home and collapsed outside on the front porch with a phone pressed to her ear.

I shook her shoulder. “We need to go to the hospital!”

“No, fiore mio. She’s gone…”

And that’s when the numbness took over.

Sometime later, the police officers showed up at our front door. A female officer explained what she believed occurred to my mamma. She said the events matter-of-factly as reporters did on the nightly news. It sounded distant as if it had happened to some other family. This couldn’t have happened to us. We were supposed to be untouchable.

“Excuse me,” the male officer said, making me come back to reality.

I stared at him. The badge on his chest said his name was Detective McMann. He probably told me that when they first arrived, but I couldn’t wrap my head around words. His blue eyes studied me, wondering if I brought this upon my baby sister. There was a pinch of gray in his chestnut brown hair and beard. Was he older or looked it because of his occupation?

“Are you with me, ma’am?” Detective McMann waved his hand in front of my face.

Tyler hugged me around the waist. “Rory, it’s okay. Shh.” He rubbed my back in large, slow circles as if that would help my racing mind process what happened.

“What was the question?” My mouth felt dry as if I’d gone without water for days.

Detective McMann tapped his pen on his notebook, impatient that I didn’t give my statement as semi-smoothly as Carmen and Tyler, minus the few times they choked on their words. As for me, my world crumbled before me. All that I knew was nothing. All that I saw was red.

“Do you or anyone in your family have any enemies?” His tone was scratchy. Maybe he was a smoker.

We belonged to the most notorious Italian mob family. There were a few names on the list.

Paolo was suspect number one in my book. Three motives already popped into my head: I knew Paolo and his cousins were getting their hands dirty with the Mexican cartel, Paolo was angry and vengeful after I broke up with him, and/or he was gunning after Tyler because of the basketball team.

“Not that I’m aware of,” I mumbled, looking down at my trembling hands. I washed off the blood, but they still felt sticky. My baby sister’s blood was poured all over me, and I couldn’t do anything to save her.

He nodded. “Your sister told me you witnessed your father’s murder a few years ago. Do you think this has anything to do with that?”

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