Page 27 of The Sound in Silence

Her smile informs me she sees right through my lie. “One day, I want the best for you, honey. I want you to grow up and make a good life for yourself. To live in a big, beautiful house and never struggle for money.”

If only she saw me now. I did it. I managed to get into a big, beautiful house—my third by now. But not in the ways she or I planned.Idid nothing to earn the mansion.

That was hit number one on my mood this morning.

The second was the ocean I continued to watch through the wall of windows. Mom loved the ocean too. As a kid, she’d frequently take me and Della to the Lachine Canal—which isn’t the prettiest, by any means—but it was water. After walking Old Montreal because she adored the cobblestone roads, we’d sit on the grass by the Canal.

Della and I made her dreams a reality. We found better lives. The caveat being it took marriage and criminals to do it.

In a way, Mom made her dream come true as well. When she got with Stefano and we moved into his mansion, although it was half the size of this place and the Corsetti mansion, it was still larger than we’d ever seen before. Despite the hell and pain Stefano dragged everyone in my life into, I’m thankful for one reason: Mom smiled so much by his side.

It’s fucked up to despise and yet be grateful toward the man who killed her, but for a while, she loved him. It was enough for us all, even if I hated him from the second we were introduced.

“Della, Ariella, this is the man who’s been occupying so many of my evenings. Stefano, meet my girls.”

The man has a rat-like face that has me questioning Mom’s interest in him. His personality must be fantastic because when he smiles, it churns my stomach.

“Nice to meet you both.” He reaches a hand out for Della, and then me, and I return his shake, unable to look away from his toothy smile. Charming, in some ways, and Mom’s basically swooning by his side, but his gaze darkens, studying Della and me.

Almost like he’s judging us, but not in a mean way. More like, deciding if we’re suitable or not.

I don’t like the way my heart thumps faster, my senses picking up a disconcerting sensation, as he releases me and turns back to Mom.

But this place…this isn’t the dream she once wanted for me. This is a gilded cage. A place I willingly chose too—that’s the kicker.

Moving in with Della into the Corsetti mansion never felt permanent. Almost like, deep down, Iknewit’d be temporary. It was a stepping stone in life. But as Sebastian showed me around the mansion,thisfeels like forever. There were different considerations as I took in everything, reminding myself that this is now home, even when it doesn’t feel like it.

I told him that too, through sign language. His response: “Yet. It’ll happen, I’m sure. After all, it is only your first day here.”

When the sky shifted into grey and the rain burst from the clouds, it was a sign. By then, I already felt the familiar—and this time, welcoming—darkness consume my mood. Like a switch, my positive emotions flicked off, taking all of me with it, until the only thing I desired was to hide.

The rain gave me that excuse since Sebastian was unable to show me outside. Hours later, I’m still buried beneath the blanket, breathing through the misery, the sudden low feeling—the depression I’ve been surviving with—managing—since I was fourteen. At sixteen, I was diagnosed. But only Mom knows, and my secret died with her. We never told Della because I asked Mom not to. As teenagers, I didn’t want her perception of me to change, and as adults, I’ve become a burden on her, so admitting what I spend so much time hiding feels wrong.

The doctor leaves the room so Mom and I can process the news together.

The diagnosis of clinical depression.

“It makes sense,” I conclude after a few minutes. “I feel like so much of me makes sense now.”

Mom approaches my chair and leans down to take me into a tight hug. Her hair, blonde like Della’s, fills my nose with her fruity scent. It’s comforting and grounding for my emotions.

“It changes nothing, honey. Nothing at all. You’re perfect, and I love you. We’ll talk with the doctors for any strategies they feel might help stabilize your mood, but only if you want. We came for answers, and if you’re happy just knowing, then you’re strong enough to manage this challenge.” She releases me to face me once more, her palm stroking hair away from the side of my face. “Ari, you’re strong. Knowing changes little. Now you better understand yourself. You don’t need to decide anything right now.”

My eyes burn from tears shed hours ago when the emotions mounted, growing so impossibly heavy. When my chest felt like it’d cave in. When breathing was a difficult task.

In the hours passing, Sebastian’s come to my room twice, asking if I need anything, and Carlotta on rotation every hour, offering food. After the first four checks, I managed to text her to leave me alone, so she’d stop feeling obligated. Her reply was that she left a tray outside the door anyway. That was hours ago but I haven’t gotten up for it.

Food seems so far away from what my body needs.

Throughout the day, Della’s called twice and messaged a whole lot. Aurora too, and one from Nico. A missed call from Caterina, only a few minutes ago. I’m moments away from switching off my cell, even if every single message almost made me smile. Theycareenough to check on me. Della, I expected, but not the rest of them.

When you don’t respond, they’ll assume all is well and will stop caring. Then you’ll be alone again.

True. But for now, I still can’t answer. Can’t pretend to be okay.

Nothing from Erico. I wonder if he’s aware I’ve been in our room all day. I wonder if he cares. At what point will Erico discard a half-starved, depressed wife? It’s easy to hide from Della, but to spend a lifetime with Erico doing so is something else. If he’s gone often, it’s doable.

When in this marriage farce will Erico realize he doesn’t want someone with depression? The simple thought should be enough to force me from bed, but all it does is bury me deeper.

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