Page 127 of Giovanna

My interest is piqued. It sounds like something is going down.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Mass shooting,” he grimaces. “At one of those Strive gyms.”

My blood runs cold.

“Which one?” I demand.

“Ah,” he reads from his phone. “The one opposite St Catherine’s Shopping Plaza. In your neck of the woods actually. Anyway, I need to get down there. I’ll, ah, I’ll be in touch.”

He stands pulling his jacket back on, managing to look reluctant and urgent at the same time.

Francesca. I should never have agreed to drop her security detail.

What time did her shift start?

I curse myself for not knowing her schedule. I call her as I sprint to the car without saying goodbye to the Commissioner. No answer.

Fuck.Next, I try Massimo.

“Yo, sister boss,” he answers.

“Where’s Francesca?” I bark.

“At work. Geez.”

“FUCK!” I scream, pulling out into the road and forcing traffic to stop for me to the soundtrack of several horns. “There’s been a shooting at her gym. Mass casualties. Get down there. I’m on my way.”

I hear him roar just before I disconnect the call and focus on getting back across town to my angel.

I’ve been battling traffic and my own chaotic emotions for about ten minutes when Massimo calls me back.

“She’s been hit, G,” his voice cracks and I can hear he is crying. “She’s holding on, but it isn’t looking good. I’m following the ambulance with Sammy now.”

“Text me which hospital. I’ll meet you there.” My voice is calm, but I feel like my entire world has split open like a black hole forming in space. This is hell.

I get a small dose ofdeja vuas I rush into the same hospital Dad was in not so long ago, but this time the panic and desperation are amplified by a million times. I don’t even recognise the woman in the mirror in the elevator. She’s terrified and out of control. That’s not me.

Massimo stands with his hands on his head in the middle of a small waiting area in the surgical ward. Sammy is a few steps away, dried blood on her white sports bra and staining the skin on her arms and bare torso. They’re both frozen in shock.

“They’ve taken her in for surgery. Can’t get anyone to give us an indication of what her odds are,” he wraps his arms around me and we stand like that for a few minutes.

For the first time in many, many years, I cry and Massimo is as shocked as I am. He lets me bury my face in his chest to hide my tears and holds me tight until I regain my composure.

Elio and Matteo arrive not long after and the five of us sit and wait for news.

I’m struck by the stupidity of it all that now we are sitting outside an operating theatre, waiting to hear if Francesca will survive, my three brothers behave as if she is mine. They comfort me, reassure me. But, when things were fine and she wasn’t marred by a bullet hole we all pretended that wasn’t the case.

“You’re shaking,” I raise my head to see Elio crouching in front of Sammy speaking gently. “Come on, you’re still covered in blood. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

She scowls at him and continues shivering.

Elio looks over at the rest of us for help, but I’m pretty sure at this point she has an even poorer opinion of me than she does of him.

She regards us all with cold suspicion. I can only imagine what Francesca has told her about us all. Well, about me and Elio.

She’s a loyal friend and I’m glad Francesca has her. God knows she needs someone on her team.

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