Page 62 of Double Trouble for the Mafia Prince
Arietta offers me a twig.
"To build the bakery," she says. "It needs walls."
I take it.
My fingers don’t shake, but they feel clumsy.
It takes a moment to get the rhythm right, to understand how careful they are about every piece, how much meaning lives in the crooked angles and uneven towers.
When the wall is finished, they clap like I’ve won something.
The warmth that spreads in my chest has nothing to do with pride.
It’s deeper than that.
Older.
They’re still talking when Valentina’s voice floats in from the hallway.
A gentle summons.
I know she won’t come out and interrupt.
She never hurries moments that should linger.
The girls sigh, brushing the dirt from their knees, and each of them picks up a stuffed toy I hadn’t noticed before.
A rabbit.
A small bear with a bowtie.
"You’ll be here tomorrow?" Alessia asks.
"I will," I say, before I can stop myself.
Arietta just nods like she already expected that answer.
They leave me in the garden, sitting in the middle of their kingdom, with a broken twig in one hand and mud drying on the cuffs of my shirt.
I don’t remember standing.
I don’t remember walking back through the south wing.
But somehow, I’m outside Gianna’s door, listening to the faint sound of movement from within.
It’s not late yet, but the sky outside is darker now, the first star just beginning to show itself above the trees.
I knock once, and the door shifts open a crack.
She appears in the frame a moment later, barefoot, hair still damp from a shower, dressed in a nightdress covered by a pale robe.
She freezes when she sees me.
"You’re not supposed to be here."
"I wanted to talk."
She doesn’t move, but she doesn’t close the door either.
