Page 103 of Sin & Secrets

For a second, we just stand there, frozen as we take each other in.

Dark circles have blossomed under her eyes; from lack of sleep or the darkening bruise over her cheek, I can’t be sure.

“You look like shit,” I say.

She throws herself at me, arms pulling me in so tightly I can barely breathe. But God, do I need this. The numbness burns away under human contact, leaving me with nothing but raw, uncontrollable grief.

“Shhhhh,” Mia strokes my hair as the sobs begin to rack my body. “Come on.”

She takes my hand, leading me into her tiny studio apartment and gently sitting me down on her bed.

Wordlessly, she climbs over to lie next to me and opens her arms to me once more.

I’m not sure how much time passes while we lie there as everything pours out of me in one messy stream of grief.

Grief for my father, a man I never knew. A man who thought it wise to bring me to this godforsaken place. For him dying before I had a chance to damn him to hell.

Grief for my mother, who had lied to me my whole life. Who had somehow managed to leave the Italian mafia and would have never wanted this for me.

Grief for Claudio Lazzaro, who I had so earnestly and naively loved. Who had so completely and utterly ruined me. Who was now dead by my own hand.

Grief for the girl I once was, the person I would never be again.

I can’t process anything else more. Can’t even thinkhisname without becoming overwhelmed by the immensity of my own emotions.

The humiliation, the anger, the pain, the longing are all vying for my attention all at once.

My tears finally, finally begin to subside and Mia, the constant rock tethering me to reality with her soothing words the entire time, begins to stretch out a little stiffly.

“Let me get us some water,” she says gently as she pries me off of her.

I roll over so I can bury my face in her pillow.

“Unless you’d like anything stronger?”

A sudden craving overwhelms me. “Do you have any breakfast tea?”

Mia gives me a bemused look. “I’m sorry, when did you turn into the Queen of England?”

The thought of Donatella twangs my already sensitive heart strings. My face immediately crumples into a new wave of tears.

“Shit,” Mia says in alarm. “I’m sorry, I’ll go get some tea, okay? Just wait here.”

Absently, I’m aware of the front door opening and closing as I try to get myself under control again. By the time she returns, I’ve managed to sit myself up, although I’m still clutching the pillow.

Mia appears a moment later, a steaming mug in her hand. “All they had was decaf, but…”

I take it from her gratefully, warming my hands on the porcelain.

“How are you feeling?” Mia says as she rejoins me on the bed.

“Like crap.”

“You have a bruise,” she says, pointing to my cheek.

I snort darkly. “I guess we match.”

“Who…”

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