Page 97 of The Sound in Silence

“I do. I think. You sound weird, Della.”

“I’m just—I’m happy for you.” With a lower voice, she continues, “When you volunteered and we fought, remember how I kept reminding you of the whole nine-yards thing you always dreamed of? The husband, the kids, the house. But your counter-argument was that due to Mom’s choices, our futures changed too drastically for you to live that once-possible life. Despite everything, it’s working out.”

We’re no love match like you and Nico, but yeah, we’re getting there.

“He’s trying. More now than the beginning. At first, he didn’t want a relationship, but it’s not like that anymore. In this fucked-up world that we found ourselves in, Della, we made something of it. Mom would have wanted this for us, I think. You found love in an unlikely place, but Nico would burn the world to keep you safe. And I—” I stop. Admitting I care for Erico is one thing, but the rest seems too soon.

I almost expect her to push me, but my sister only makes an appreciative noise right as a knock sounds through the entrance of the house. Carlotta rushes from upstairs and somehow, manages to get her aging body to the front door all before I even stand from the couch.

“Gotta go,” I mumble into the phone’s speaker. “Meeting.” Then I hang up as the door opens and Carlotta is waving the visitor inside.

TheFamigliadoctor looks nothing like the Corsettis’. While the Corsettis’ is an older man with a receding hairline and a grandfatherly smile, Erico’s is probably about twenty years younger, fit, with all his hair. Blond with a spattering of dark strands.

He shakes Carlotta’s hand with a charming smile and then approaches me, his arm stretching. I take it, open my mouth in greeting—

Crash!

Metal scraping against metal.

Tires squealing.

Hm.Maybe Dr. Shappo was right. Maybe it’s a trust thing. A comfort thing. And Erico’s made his way inside my very tight circle.

When my mouth clamps shut, he simply smiles and gestures toward the couches behind us. “Please, don’t strain yourself trying to talk. Dr. Shappo from Montreal forwarded your file to me and I’ve read it over, even into your time at the medical centre. SLP, psychiatrist, psychologist, GP; they really threw everyone at you, huh?”

I nod once in agreement, uncertain how to respond. The doctor drops in the chair across from me and roots through his leather bag before retrieving a notebook. He rips a sheet of paper from it and hands me a pen.

“To reply, if you’d like. My name is Dr. Rancott. I’ve been with theFamigliafor quite a long time, and have been looking forward to meeting the newest Mrs. Rossi.”

Right away, I scribble my name onto the paper and jab my nail into it, shooting him a meaningful look that meansrefer to me as this.

He smiles, the skin around his eyes wrinkling slightly. “Of course, Ariella. Well, Mr. Rossi mentioned you’re not interested in further counselling, which, after reading, I suppose I understand. Tired of it all?”

I nod.

“I did have a phone call the other day with Dr. Shappo though, and he mentioned his theories about why your sister is the only one you feel comfortable enough to speak with. Did he ever mention this to you?” When I nod, he asks, “And how do you feel about it?”

I shrug, not really wanting to delve into theories, but do agree, now more than ever, with the previous doctor.

“Fair enough. Well, I’ve come to check up on you after yesterday, and to introduce myself, in case down the road, you do wish for extra services. Then I won’t be a stranger to you. Mr. Rossi didn’t share many details, other than you were nearly hit by a vehicle.”

He didn’t tell the stranger that I spoke to him. I don’t know why, but it makes me feel better. If the doctor knew, he’d be interested in why Erico’s added to the list alongside my sister.

I scribble on the paper.

I’m fine. Erico avoided the hit

Once he reads it, the distracted look in his eyes indicates something else. He won’t say it though. He won’t point out the similarities between yesterday and the accident that began all this. There’s more similarities than Dr. Rancott’s even aware of.

He flips through his notebook, murmuring, “There’s a few things I’d like to check out, and to draw some blood.”

Why?I mouth. Needles and me, we’re not enemies, but if I can avoid giving blood, that would be great.

“Because it seems like it’s been a few years since your last blood test, according to your file, and it’s standard procedure for theFamiglia. Especially the mother of our future Boss.”

Right.Sometimes, being wrapped up in Erico and swimming and my music, I forget the real reason I’m here. To be a wife—to host parties and create Erico’s heir.

Seeing no other way, I lay the paper off to the side and shuffle toward the edge of the couch, indicating for him to begin. He reaches in his bag for gloves and comes closer with a vial.

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