Page 35 of The Deadly Candies

Matteo hesitated. “I have my ways,Melo. You know that.”

“And you can get in touch with her? Kasthy? For me? Get a letter to Kathy?”

“Sì,” Matteo said, shrugging. “I can get a message to her or deliver your letters. I’ve got connections like I said.”

Carmelo’s face softened, the hard edges melting away. “Grazie, Matteo. I’m sorry… for everything. Ma told me what you did—how you got Kathy out of that bakery, away from DeMarco. I never thanked you. I just…” He looked down at the letter, his eyes glistening. “I had no hope. Until now.”

He kissed the letter, his lips brushing the paper like a prayer, and closed his eyes. Matteo’s chest tightened. His brother mentality had been shattered by the trauma of what their father had done. If their parents’ thought Carmelo was rebellious before, they weren’t ready for what he’d become now—obsessed, consumed by the idea of Kathy as if she were some deity, clinging to her memory, words like the scripture in the King James.

Carmelo picked up his pencil and returned to his drawing, his focus narrowing to the paper. Matteo sighed, biting back the sob rising in his throat.

“You can keep the letter,fratellino,” he said quietly. “Just… be careful,va bene? Don’t let Ma see them.Per favore.”

Carmelo didn’t answer. His eyes were locked on Kathy’s face, his pencil moving in slow, deliberate strokes.

Matteo stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind him. He leaned against the door, his head tipping back as he exhaled. When Debbie had first suggested the letters, he’d resisted. He didn’t want to feed Carmelo’s delusions, didn’t want to give him false hope. But now, seeing the way his brother clung to that letter, Matteo was convinced he’d done the right thing. Matteo could not imagine a world where he couldn’t touch and love Debbie. He now understood the depths of his brother suffering.

“Matteo?Che c’è?”

He opened his eyes. His mother stood in the hallway, balancing a basket of laundry on her hip. Her gaze darted from him to Carmelo’s door, and her brow furrowed.

“Niente, Ma,” he said, forcing a smile. “Everything’s good. He’s up and drawing.”

Lucia’s face lit up. “Grazie a Dio. Will you stay today? Keep him company? It would help.”

“Certo, Ma,” Matteo said, winking. “Anything you want.”

She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and headed down the stairs. Matteo watched her go, his chest aching. He promised Debbie he’d return to Mama Stewart’s before she had to leave. He’d driven like a madman to get home, his heart racing with excitement to deliver the letter. But now? Now, he couldn’t leave. Carmelo needed him.

He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. He was so close—close to having enough money to get their own place, far from their father’s shadow. When he did, he’d move their mother, Carmelo, and Nino out of this house forever. And once they were settled, he’d make his mama see the good in those different from him because Debbie would be his wife. He now understood Carmelo in ways he could never have conceived before. There was something special about the Freeman women.

For now, he stayed because family came first.Sempre.

* * *

Matteo paced the sitting room,the phone pressed to his ear. He’d closed the door behind him, but the walls felt too thin, the air too heavy.

“Hello?” Debbie’s voice was soft, hesitant.

“Deb, it’s me. Matteo.”

“What’s wrong? Why aren’t you here?” Debbie asked.

Matteo groaned, running a hand through his hair. He’d missed her all last week; a job had kept him away. Now, hearing her voice, his heart hammered in his chest. “I can’t come back today.”

“What? Why? Is everything okay with Carmelo? Did he get the letter?”

“Sì, cara, he’s fine. But I need to stay here. I’m sorry. My Ma has expectations. I can’t disappoint her.”

“It’s okay,” Debbie said, her voice softening. “I’ll see you next week, Matteo?—”

“No,” he interrupted, his voice sharp with desperation. “I can’t wait four days. I need to see you. Please. You’re all I have to look forward to, Debbie. For me.”

Debbie sighed. “Matteo, you know I can’t be late going home. Pa wants me to quit the Espositos because school has started. Uncle Henry found out I’ve been working there, and he’s furious. They cornered me yesterday and told me to work at the bakery if I need money. I was going to tell you when you came back that this was our last time. I asked ma if I could work at Stewarts, but she said no.”

Matteo’s stomach dropped. “You’re not breaking up with me, are you?”

“No!” Debbie’s voice was firm. “I’m just saying I won’t be able to come here like we do. We can’t be with each other like this anymore. I’m sorry.”

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