Page 117 of Tide of Treason
Gemz began roughly toweling my hair. I tried not to wince. She looked proud.
“You’re, like, the prettiest person I’ve ever seen in real life,” she said suddenly. “Swear down. Your face is mad. Your eyes—peng. Like a Victoria’s Secret model but, like . . . stabby.”
“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me this trimester.”
“Can I, like . . . take a picture? For me. Not to post. Swear on me nan.”
Her sincerity was baffling, if you ignored the fact she’d just farted five seconds ago and tried to blame it on the salon dog.
“. . . Sure,” I said.
Gemz lit up, muttering something about how her “G’s are gonna absolutely soil themselves.”
I dragged my phone from my purse, thumb slick from a smear of conditioner she had somehow managed to geteverywhere, and unlocked the screen with a sigh that could’ve powered a small wind farm. Five missed calls. Twenty-three notifications from a pregnancy app that kept trying to feed me unsolicited trivia like “your baby is now the sise of a lemon!” as if that was supposed to be comforting.
Gemz blinked at me, waiting.
Right. Picture.
I tilted my chin, pulled my damp hair over one shoulder, gave her a look that saidgoddess or gun-wielding mistress, your choice,and let her snap it. She squealed. I took her phone, sent the photo to her chavvy Instagram account, @gemz_with_a_z_luvluv69, and ignored the post caption she started drafting that included the phrasehot MILF energy.
Was that what I’d become?
The first lock of hair hit the floor.
A soft, whisperingsnick.
I felt it ghost down my back; every inch lost, every strand falling with the promise of something lighter.
When my phone buzzed in my lap, I checked it out of muscle memory and saw the notification banner light up with the wordsGLORY TO GOD + THE SFORZA BLOODLINE.Nonna’s chosen name for our family group chat.
Francesco:Vito is a little bitch
Vito:i wud kil u both rn if i cud type
Nonna:WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT GAMBLING ON MY ACCOUNT???
Mamma:[one attachment]
She’d captioned it:Just got out of the bath. Do I lookflushed?
And sent it.
To.
The.
Whole.
Family.
My teeth clicked.
My papà was typing so aggressively the little typing dots glitched.
Papà:Flavia.
Papà:Delete this.
