Page 53 of Brittle Heart

“Thanks.”

I make my way through the kitchen to the back, where I find Lennard and Matteo by their lockers, pulling out their jackets. Joining them, I reach for my own.

“You’re finishing up early today, Carolina,” Lennard observes.

“Don’t jinx it,” I say, pushing through the door with them into the cold night.

“Do you want me to walk you home,carina?” Matteo offers.

“I’ll manage,” I say, walking away.

It’s cold. I can see my breath misting up under the streetlamps. But the walk is short, and soon, I’m in our apartment. I shed my jacket, placing my backpack beside it before heading to our room.

I want to check on Chiara and gather my things to get ready for bed, but when I open the door, my little sister is getting pounded from behind by a tall but scrawny guy with a mop of blond hair on his head.

“Chiara!” I yell, my hand gripping the cold metal of the doorknob so tightly that my knuckles turn white.

Chiara’s eyes widen in shock when her head snaps toward me. A gasp escapes her lips before she lets out a horrified scream. The boy, equally startled, freezes for a split second. Then, in a frantic rush, he slides down next to her, their hands fumbling and tangling as they both desperately scramble for the discarded blanket to cover themselves.

For a moment, I’m rooted to the spot, my mind struggling to process what I just saw, but finally I raise my hand to shield my eyes, wishing I could erase the last few seconds from memory.“Che cazzo fai?”

“Why are you home so early?” she squeaks out in a panicked tone.

“Why am I home?” I let my hand fall and watch as Chiara pulls the blanket closer to her chest, exposing the scrawny guy I assume is Leo and his dick before he takesmyfucking pillow to cover himself.

“I can’t deal with this right now,” I say, spinning on my heels to exit the room and shutting the door behind me. Then I lean against it for a moment, taking a deep breath.

Just then, I hear the front door creak open. I dart into the bathroom, leaving the door just slightly ajar. Peering through the gap, I watch Roberto stumble into the living room, promptly turning on the television with the volume up high.

I linger a minute longer before moving to the front door, grabbing my jacket and backpack, and leaving the apartment. Once in the stairwell, I dial Chiara.

“I swear I didn’t—” She begins, but I cut her off.

“Roberto just got home.” I hear her inhale sharply at my words. “Keep that boy in your room. Set an alarm for five thirty. Roberto should be asleep by then, and he can leave. Don’t risk anything. If Roberto sees him, he will hurt both of you.”

“Okay,” she whispers back with a shaky breath.

“And Chiara, wearegoing to talk about that shit some more later, but what were you thinking? I sleep in that bed too,porca miseria! You are going to wash those bedsheets tomorrow,twice!”

“Okay,” she whispers once more before I end the call.

I slip on my jacket and pocket my phone, heading back to the bar. But it seems Donny has already shut everything down. No lights are on, and no one responds to my knocking.

Fuck, what do I do now?

I can’t stay outside for hours. It’s too chilly, and the shelter closes its doors at night, so I can’t go to Howie either.

I head back to our apartment building, where I can wait in the stairwell. It’s not exactly warm, but it’s definitely warmer than outside. As I walk, a weird feeling of being watched creeps over me. I scan my surroundings, but all I see are some people laughing in the distance and a stray cat darting across the street—nobody else in sight.

“Pull your shit together,” I mutter, but that nagging sensation just grows stronger.

I take a turn and pause, glancing over my shoulder. A shadow disappears behind a building. Fuck, I’m right in front of my place now, but if someone follows me in, I’m trapped.

So, I quicken my pace, hoping to lose him in a labyrinth of turns before doubling back to my building. Maybe it’s all in my head, and this feeling will pass soon.

Twenty minutes later, I’m still walking, heart pounding in my chest. Something deep down is screaming at me that I’m in danger.

In a move I never thought I’d make, I get out my phone and dial Clay’s number.

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