Page 66 of The Sound in Silence

I glance toward Ariella and Della—the common ground they’ve each become for two past enemies. “I agree.”

Nico follows my gaze and smirks, slapping his hand on my shoulder. “It’s the Lambert way. Those women wrap a man around their finger like no tomorrow. Can I assume, all is going well between you two?”

“Yes,” I answer carefully, unwilling to offer any details about Ariella and my relationship. When he doesn’t probe, I use the opening to ask what’s been nagging me the entire trip up here. “When we first met about Ariella, you mentioned the accident that took their mother from them. Said it was their stepfather; the same man you called for my assistance on.”

Nico makes a noise, indicating he’s listening and waiting for my point.

“I doubt De Falco would have been driving the vehicle himself. Who caused the accident?”

Nico stops walking entirely, scanning the trees around us before returning his attention to me. “After meeting Della, I had Rafael, my brother, look into it. The accident was deemed precisely that, but I felt there was more to it. Despite the research, nothing concrete was dug up. De Falco’s recent confession confirmed what we all suspected. Other recent events had us learning that he was using a group of mercenaries to do his dirty work. While the ones we found are all dead, I can forward you everything we have on them and the files about the accident, as well as Rafael’s number, since he had more dealings with the group’s leader than I did. Maybe you can dig something else up because you’re correct. De Falco only ordered the hit, which means someone else was driving that vehicle. Since their mother was the only victim in the accident, the fucker must have escaped.”

“Appreciate it.” I step, encouraging us to walk again.

He follows. “If he’s alive and you find him, I’d be grateful for a piece of him.”

“He’s mine. All fucking mine, Corsetti. For her.”

“Hm.” His tone is light, amused, but I’m not laughing whatsoever. “I’ll get you the information then.” Even as he speaks, he roots for his phone to shoot off a text, likely to his brother.

We reach the end of the stone path and the other end of the cemetery, so we turn around, slowly walking back the way we came.

“Enamoured with her?” He nods toward the sisters, like I couldn’t decipher who he’s asking about.

I shrug. Not his business.

“Less pissed about the switch in brides then?”

“I was never angry,” I counter. “Besides, shit works out like this for a reason. How’s Aurora?”

“Happy with her chosen man.”

“Good.”

Eventually, we get near enough to make out both Ariella and Della talking. I wonder if they’re talking to one another or their mother. Despite the day, I’m selfish enough to be jealous of her family for getting to hear her voice.

Like Nico is thinking the same, he asks, “She talk to you yet?”

“No.”

“You sound a little bitter.” He’s chuckling again, sharpening the annoyance in my nerves with every sound. If he was anyone else, I’d have my gun drawn to shut him up. “It’ll happen,” he continues. “She’s gone through a lot, but I’m sure in time, she’ll open up. Today’s bound to earn some brownie points.”

Nodding, I agree, butbrownie pointsisn’t what I want. Using her mother’s death and this visit isn’t a tool to bring us closer together.

Once we near the row they’re in, we stop walking, remaining on the path. The sun’s high in the sky, taunting the sisters with its life, its warmth. We’ll stay here until dusk, nighttime, midnight, for all I care. However long Ariella needs.

After a few more minutes, Ariella reaches into the bosom of her dress and pulls out a rolled-up piece of paper. She unwraps it, shows her sister, and then refolds it before sinking her fingers into the base of their mother’s headstone. She scrapes a tiny pile out, uncaring as the dirt wedges itself beneath her nails, and creates a small hole, no larger than a chipmunk would need to bury an acorn. The paper flutters into the hole before Ariella pushes her dirt pile overtop and presses her body’s weight down, ensuring the dirt remains packed tightly before lifting to her feet, Della beside her.

Nico takes a step, assuming they’re done, but stops when the sisters don’t move. They link hands and continue staring at the stone. Becoming statues exactly like so many around us.

It’s another few minutes before they turn away. Della throws herself right into Nico’s arms while Ariella stops in front of me, her gaze locked on her dirt-stained fingertips, fiddling with them.

My arms ache to hold her, embrace her like Della and Nico are, and prove she can rely on me for the emotional moments. I reach for her the same time she does me. Her arms wrap my chest, her head resting over my heart. Her face is stained with tears, which she rubs into my shirt. Minutes pass and her hold grows tighter and tighter.

I love that she wanted my support, though. That she trusts me enough to at the very least hold her, care for her during the tough moments. I rub up and down her back, easing her with every method possible. For as long as she needs.

Over her head, I catch Della observing from Nico’s arms. He’s murmuring something in her ear that she’s slowly nodding to.

“Whenever you need to visit her, you let me know, okay? I’ll make it happen with Nico.”

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