Page 111 of Mafiosa
Millie and I drove in silence, the tears streaming down my face, her hand in mine.
‘It will be OK, Soph. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but it will. You will survive this.’
How many ways can a heart break? A shard for my mother, a shard for my father, and a shard for Luca. And all the empty space in between for me.
It would be over come New Year’s Day. Either the Marinos or the Falcones would be wiped out, and every last piece of my identity might be gone, too.
Millie’s parents’ cottage was several hours outside Chicago, nestled inside a pine forest on the edge of a small lake. Luca had warned Millie to lie low here for a few days, and not to move through O’Hare airport or anywhere nearCedar Hill at least until New Year’s Eve. So I waited, quietly, as the days dragged past. I pretended to care about things I never thought about. I watched movie after movie, nestled between Alex and Millie. I made polite conversation with Cris when he came to visit. I lost at Scrabble way too many times to count. I won at Monopoly and didn’t care. Not nearly as much as I thought about Luca, about my father. About my uncle.
I cried myself to sleep at night, my switchblade closed inside my fist – the last reminder that I had belonged somewhere. I wasn’t ready to let that go yet.
The waiting was excruciating. The not knowing was even worse, but we didn’t get the newspapers at the cottage, so I could live, at least for a few days, in ignorant bliss. There was no internet, and I barely had two bars of coverage on my phone. The police called – eager to speak to me about my father’s death. I had already seen it; I didn’t need the specifics. I didn’t need the faux sympathy. I wasn’t ready to open that can of worms yet, so I let the calls go to voicemail. They didn’t come for me. They didn’t know where I was, and whatever Millie told her parents was enough. Because they didn’t push it either.
I booked a one-way flight to Colorado with the money Luca gave to Millie.
On the morning of December 31st, we left the cottage. Millie’s parents were heading to a New Year’s party in the city.
Millie drove me to the airport, and walked me right up to the check-in desk, her fingers curled tightly in mine. The address was burning a hole in my pocket.
‘I can come, you know. I can come with you for a while. Iknow you won’t be gone too long but you don’t have to go alone.’
If hugs could kill, I would have smothered her. ‘I’ll be fine,’ I said, trying to smile. The truth was, I didn’t know where I was going and whether it might be some last-minute Marino trap. It might have been my only viable option, but I wasn’t about to risk Millie’s life for it. ‘I’ll call you the second I arrive there.’
She pulled me into a hug and I squeezed her so tight we lost our breaths.
‘I love you, Soph.’ She pulled back from me, her eyes wide and searching. ‘I’ll see you really soon.’
‘I know,’ I said, forcing my smile. ‘And I love you too.’
She tapped my nose, and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘We’re the real love story here. You know that, don’t you?’
I wiped a tear from her cheek. ‘I know that, Mil. I’ve always known that.’
‘Good,’ she said. ‘Call me when you land.’
I left her waving after me as I boarded the plane, and pointed my life in the direction of someone I had never met before, in a town I’d never been to, everything now pinned to the last words of my father and the hope that he loved me still, despite everything. My fingers encircled the bracelet on my wrist, my mind chanting the words over and over again:Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, whispering, ‘It will be happier.’
I thought of Luca, and felt my heart crease. How could I be happy, knowing he was trapped?
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHTTHE GIRL
I sat back in the cab and watched the Rocky Mountains in the distance as we wound further up the hill. I had texted Millie to say I’d arrived safely. There was no one else to tell. I fogged the glass and traced a heart in it, feeling the chill through the windows.
Boulder was beautiful. It was like another world – away from the madness, the bloodshed, the feeling that I was being watched. The police might still look for me, but it would take them longer to find me. Maybe they never would. As for the Marinos, or what was left of them now, I didn’t know. Perhaps they were waiting for me already. I tried not to think about it. I had already cast my die.
It was New Year’s Eve. Tonight the Falcones would make their final strike in Chicago. The yacht party would becrawling with police. I knew in my heart that whoever stepped on to that boat wouldn’t make it out alive. I knew in my heart that I would never see Luca Falcone again. Beyond the grief and the sadness, the guilt and the panic, there was a sense of calm. Of numbness.
Resignation.
I had hit rock bottom, and I could barely put one foot in front of the other. Only for Millie. Only for the memory of my mother. Only for the life that Luca wished for me – the one I would have to lead for both of us now.
I dragged my attention from the winding streets where red-brick buildings crowded side by side – hipster cafes, a string of restaurants and an Urban Outfitters welcomed me to Boulder.
I laid my head back and closed my eyes. A split second seemed to pass before the cab door was swinging open and the driver was nudging me awake. I paid him, grabbed my bags from the trunk and stood in front of a small three-storey townhouse. The door was bright purple. It was tall and narrow, like something out of a storybook. There were flowers in the garden, peeking out from the snow. A painted mailbox with golden lettering:Miss Marla Flores.At least the address matched the name. I guessed that was something.
I climbed the three wooden porch steps and paused to welcome a familiar rush of anxiety. There was nothing. Just dullness – a slight ache, a flicker of nerves, and then nothing. I rang the doorbell and a melodic chime rose up behind the door.
It was almost sundown. The birds were still singing. It was cold, but the sun was out, and everything looked brighterthan it should have been. I was about to ring the doorbell again when a frantic shuffling of feet galloped behind the doorway, followed by the sound of a lock shifting. I stood straight, going over my introduction in my head.Hi, my name is Sophie Gracewell. I think you knew my father…
