Page 103 of Brittle Heart

Hesitation grips me, but curiosity wins out. I pause the movie and make my way to the door, opening it just a bit to see who is on the other side.

Two police officers stand there, their uniforms crisp and badges shining. Behind them, a man in a plain suit, presumably a detective, and a woman with kind eyes and a gentle demeanor. The officers look stern, their expressions grave. But the woman offers a small, sad smile when she sees me.

“Ms. Costa?” one of the officers asks, his voice deep and authoritative.

I open the door wider and swallow hard, my voice shaky. “Y-yes, that’s me.”

The officer takes a deep breath, his gaze never leaving mine. “I’m sorry to inform you that there’s been a car accident. Your parents… they didn’t make it.”

The world stops. My heart feels like it’s been ripped out of my chest. The words echo in my ears, but they don’t make sense. This can’t be happening.

Not tonight.

Not ever.

The detective steps forward, his voice a distant murmur. “We have some questions about your parents if you’re up for it.”

But I can’t hear him. Everything is muffled as if I’m underwater. A ringing sound grows louder in my ears, drowning out everything else. My vision blurs, the edges of my sight darkening.

Suddenly, a warm hand touches my shoulder, grounding me. I blink, my focus shifting to the woman who has stepped closer. Her eyes are filled with compassion and understanding.

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispers, her voice gentle. “We’re here to help. I am going to stay with you girls until your next relative is able to get you.”

But nothing feels okay. The weight of reality crashes down on me, and I’m left grappling with a world that has suddenly turned upside down.

“Lina?” Chiara stands in the doorway to our room, wearing her pink pajamas with little hearts on them, rubbing her sleepy eyes. Her hair is wild.

A sob breaks out of me.

How in the world am I going to explain to her that they’re gone?

“Carolina, are you okay?” Sophia asks, and I shake my head, trying to rid the memory of that tragic night.

Howie asked if I was ready to hear this all over again. And I was sure I was. But reading it again, in black and white, with no room for argument, has me shaken.

* * *

A couple of hours later, I’m still feeling overwhelmed. I’m convinced this has to be a mistake. I just know in my gut that my parents did not take heroin. But now, the question is, why does the file tell something different?

I’m so lost in my thoughts that I nearly jump when a finger strokes my cheek.

“Hey, it’s just me,” Joshua says, standing beside me at my desk.

“Hey, sorry,” I say, standing to hug him.

“How are you?” he asks, looking into my eyes and gathering my hair behind my head.

“Confused, I—” I start to say.

“Because you don’t know if you want this? Was it too soon? Fuck, I knew I should’ve waited. I promise I can take it slow with you. I can wait. I—” He starts to ramble, but I stop him by pulling him down to me by his uniform and kissing him on the lips.

He freezes for a moment, surprised by the sudden gesture.

I let go of him. “What are you even talking about?”

“I don’t know, I thought you were about to break up with me,” he explains hesitantly, and I can see the hurt in his eyes.

“What? No, of course not! Why would you think that?” I ask, genuinely surprised.

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