Page 47 of Brittle Heart

Then Clay, in a teasing, high-pitched voice, adds, “Bye, Carolina,” and makes smooching sounds.

“Shut up, idiot,” Josh hisses at him.

With my back turned to them, I can’t help but smile.

* * *

Since I have an extra hour of free time, I decide to make my way to the homeless shelter, grabbing two burgers along the way. I find Howie lying on his bed, his eyes closed, and fingers crossed over his chest. Thinking he’s asleep, I plan to leave the burger for him and quietly exit when he speaks up.

“You were just here two days ago, kid,” he murmurs, his eyes still shut. “Did something happen again? Did Chiara get herself locked up?”

“Why can’t I just bring you a burger and spend some time with you?” I ask, settling down on the edge of the bed.

“You certainly can, but would you come all the way here just for that?” he asks. He sits up and joins me on the edge of the bed, so I hand him his burger. “You have no idea how much I miss my daily burgers,” he says, opening the package and taking a bite. “Thank you.”

He still seems skinny, but there’s a bit more to him now. “The food here treats you well. You’re looking good.”

He shrugs it off. “Just packing on my winter fat while I can.” His eyebrow shoots up. “What brings you here, Lina?”

“So, I told you I’m interning at the toxicology unit at NYPD,” I say.

He nods. “Yeah, you did. I may be old, but I’m not senile.”

I snort. “My boss said she’s going to get my parents’ file so I can see for myself whether there were signs of them being on heroin.”

He gives me a scrutinizing look. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” I ask, taking another bite.

“Your conviction, right or wrong, is the bedrock of your resilience, Lina. You’ve done everything and excelled in school, college, and life because you believed your parents were falsely accused. But what if they did crash because they were high? Can you handle that truth? Can you say it wouldn’t kick your legs out from under you?”

I stare down at my burger, “I don’t know. But I need to find out, Howie,” I murmur, looking back up into his blue eyes.

“Sometimes, believing in something helps us cope, and I don’t want you to spiral if what you’ve believed turns out to be wrong.”

“I can’t possibly sink any lower,” I say, a bitter huff escaping me.

“Oh, you’d be surprised, kid. You think you’re at rock bottom, but from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re climbing your way up and out.”

CHAPTERNINETEEN

Carolina

Just as I’m locking up after the last customer has left, my phone buzzes in my jeans back pocket. I grimace, having had enough late-night calls lately.

Taking it out, I glance at the screen. To my relief, it’s not the police again or a hospital, but Bernie, the owner of the bar where Roberto frequently nurtures his alcohol problem.

Am I going to hell for hoping he is calling to tell me Roberto has drunk himself to death?

I answer the call. “Bernie,” I greet. “What’s up?”

“Roberto is causing trouble again,” he states, and I curse quietly.

“What happened?” I ask, heading to the back of the bar and my locker.

“He got blackout drunk again and started making a scene outside the bar. I tried to get him back inside, but he wouldn’t listen. Someone called the cops, and now they’re threatening to take him in. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep them at bay, Carolina.”

“On my way,” I respond, hanging up.

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