And with my parents on either side of me, that was what we did.
 
 We were back to a semblance of what was familiar, and I should’ve been content, but deep down was a gnawing ache of something missing.
 
 Or someone.
 
 Chapter
 
 Twenty-Eight
 
 Bianca
 
 It was three a.m. and I couldn’t sleep. I looked around the bedroom I had grown up in. Boxes remained unopened. Mom hadn’t touched anything. My vanity, the bed, what I’d left on them. All untouched. It was as if she was saying that I would always have a place to come home to.
 
 I reached for my new phone and texted Sandro.
 
 I can’t sleep.
 
 His reply was almost instantaneous.
 
 Sandro
 
 Me neither.
 
 How are you?
 
 Fine.
 
 I miss you.
 
 There was no response.
 
 I shifted on the bed and texted again.
 
 I wish you were here.
 
 Again, no response.
 
 He must be busy. Disappointed, I put the phone down. Then it lit up.
 
 Sandro
 
 I’m outside.
 
 What?
 
 Street corner of your house.
 
 I’ll let you in.
 
 You better.
 
 I jumped off the bed. My feet must have sprouted wings at how quickly I exited the bedroom. I had the sense to open and close the door quietly. My bedroom was on the fifth floor of my parents’ row house and it was a wonder I didn’t trip down the stairs in my race to the bottom…
 
 Where I ran into Mom.
 
 She had a glass of water in her hand and her hair was disheveled.
 
 Hmm…