Page 7 of The Devil's Deal

I glance down at my half, then up at her.

“Is it stupid?” she asks, crinkling her nose. “Yeah, it’s stupid.”

She waves her hand in the air, answering her own question.

But it’s not stupid at all.

I like it. A lot.

I grip her hand, keeping it steady. “I love it, Chiara.”

“Really?” She smiles a little, her face slanting to the side. “You mean that?”

She’s so pretty.

“Yeah.” I nod, lifting it up and placing it around my neck. “It’s kind of cool.” I grin for the first time in days.

“It has our names on the back.” She turns her half and shows me her name on it, while I glance down at mine.

“Wow, that’s neat.”

“Yeah.” She scoots closer. “It kind of is.”

“I’ll never take it off,” I promise.

She smiles, then both of us stare at the wall in front. I scoot even closer, and when I do, her hand slowly creeps toward mine, her fingers slicing in between my clammy ones.

I lay my head over hers, and we stay that way for a long time. I let her hold my hand tighter, hoping it makes me feel just a little bit better, just a little bit safer.

But it doesn’t.

My mom’s gone, and I’ll always be broken.

Chapter Three

Chiara

Age 13

For the past three years,my friendship with Dom has only gotten stronger. We hang out either at school or at their bakery when Mom and I stop by.

Mom likes keeping tabs on the boys and spends time talking to Dom’s father while Dom, his brothers, and I eat way too many cupcakes.

We never stay too long—maybe thirty minutes—thanks to my father. He has his driver take us and bring us back. I’m still not allowed to go to Dom’s house, and neither is Mom.

The day his mom died and the day of her funeral were the only exceptions. But at least we have a little time to goof around and be ourselves at the bakery. That’s something.

Sometimes, when I’m allowed to go, I get to see Dom at the library.

I feel bad for my mom, though. She has no friends since Carmella died. She only has my aunt Kirsten, who we don’t see much of because Dad forbids it. I don’t know why.

But at least Mom has Dom’s father to talk to. I’m sure she’s lonely. Everyone needs friends.

Whenever Dom and I aren’t together, we’re chatting on the phone any time my father isn’t home, which is a lot lately. He runs a ton of different businesses and is always busy. Thank goodness. I hate it when he’s home.

But unlucky for me, he’s home today, and all I want is to see Dom.

I miss him.

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