Page 172 of Carnal

The door finally creaks open.

"Who is it?" I shout in alarm.

"It's just me!" Arianna announces and she steps inside with a baby. "I thought you'd want to meet my daughter, Nicoletta."

My heart soars glancing at the tiny baby. "Wow. She's the cutest baby ever. Have I met her before?"

Arianna shakes her head. "No. She's only a few months old, and it's our first trip back home."

"You don't live here?"

She smiles. "Nope. I live in Chicago now."

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah, I do. But it's nice to come home."

I ask, "Did my family arrive?"

"They were here, but you were asleep."

"Why didn't anybody wake me up?"

"We tried."

"You did?"

"Yes, I promise. Bridget and I both tried. Did you get to sleep at all? When you were with Biagio?" she inquires.

"I slept a lot. However, I've been so weak and tired since the accident."

"Maybe it's because of the shot they were giving you," Arianna suggests.

My eyes widen. "What do you know about the shot?"

She shrugs. "Not a lot." She holds the baby toward me.

I take Nicoletta and hold her. She curls into the curve of my neck, and it feels just as good as when Bridget hugged me.

Arianna states, "I don't know a lot about the shot. All I know is that my papà found out Biagio created some sort of shot that makes people lose their memory."

I stare at her in horror.

She takes a deep breath. "I don't know all the details, so I probably shouldn't be saying anything."

"If you know something, you should tell me," I demand.

"You should talk to Tristano," she states.

My pulse skyrockets.

She puts her hand on mine. "He's going crazy. He's been insane with worry for months. Can you just talk to him?"

"I don't remember anything about him. I get these flashbacks from time to time. I started writing them down because I couldn't remember them one day to the next. And I just wanted to remember things, but I couldn't. But there are these moments where I get these visions of him, and I don't understand why or what's going on," I admit.

She shoots me a sympathetic look. "You need to talk to him. He would never hurt you. I'll stay with you while you talk to him if you want."

I walk toward the window, open the blinds, and the sun hits my face. It feels good. The gorgeous yard boasts colorful flowers and dozens of bloomed trees. The grass is as green as green gets, and the pool's open.

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