Page 39 of Brittle Heart

There is a huff of annoyance. “No wonder she does whatever she wants when you raise her like this!” Monica’s mother sneers.

Clay and I exchange a quick, puzzled look.Raise?Carolina is far too young to be her mother, right? But they look so fucking alike.

She gently pulls back from Chiara, inspecting her face. With a soft stroke of her thumb, she removes a stray tear, then releases her and turns to face the other woman, standing protectively in front of Chiara. Her earlier panicked and fearful look has vanished, replaced with the familiar, indifferent demeanor she usually presents to the world.

“From what I can tell,Barbara,” she says, tone cold. “Your daughter is standing right here beside her.”

Barbara grips Monica’s arm so tightly that her face scrunches up in pain. She lifts a finger to point at Chiara again. “She’s a bad influence! My little girl wouldn’t think of such things on her own. Living on your side of the city, it may be normal for young girls to drink, but I am not going to allow this!”

Carolina bites her lips before saying, “I’m going to let your comment slide since you always do so much for her. But I sure asfuckhave not allowed this either, and I am sure the girls learned their lesson tonight. Haven’t you?”

Both of them nod at her, mumbling a yes. Chiara once more whispers how sorry she is.

“It won’t happen again, Barbara.” Carolina’s tone is a bit warmer now, and I notice her hands are shaking before she crosses them over her chest.

“Yes, it won’t happen again because I will not let that gutter rat hang around my daughter anymore.”

I suck in a breath. It’s like a flip of a switch, and Carolina steps in front of Barbara, her hands at her sides again, formed into fists. Her body remains composed, but her golden eyes spit fire.

“What did you just call her?” she asks, her voice dangerously calm.

Clay steps forward, placing a hand on Carolina’s shoulder, trying to defuse the situation.

“Ladies, let’s not let things get out of hand,” he suggests. Carolina twists to look at Clay, then me, and I catch a fleeting expression of surprise in her eyes before it disappears.She hadn’t even noticed us until now?“It’s late, and emotions are running high. I say we end this discussion now. Let the girls get some rest, and you can talk about this some more tomorrow.”

Carolina nods, and Barbara approaches me. “So, how much is the fine?” she asks.

“Fine?” Carolina repeats, her gaze shifting to Chiara, who keeps her eyes fixed on her shoes.

Clay answers, “The penalty for underage drinking in public is four hundred dollars.”

Carolina’s eyes close for a moment before she takes a deep breath. Opening them slowly again, she turns to Chiara and whispers, “Questo è la metà dell’affitto,Chiara.”

She nods, and silent tears are falling down her cheeks. “Lo so, mi dispiace.”

Barbara steps in front of Clay and me. “When we pay this fine, there will be no records of this, right?” she asks, but my eyes are on Carolina.

She is crouching down, her backpack on the floor before her, searching through it. She pulls out some dollar bills from her purse and a variety of hidden compartments within her bag. It looks like the biggest bills she has are two twenties.

“Yes, don’t worry, ma’am. When the fine is paid, there is nothing left to do, and there will be no records of this offense,” Clay assures her, handing her the slip of paper.

Barbara takes hold of Monica’s wrist. As she walks out, she calls over her shoulder, “We’ll discuss this again, Carolina!”

Carolina just looks after her as she stands, money in her hand, retrieving a few more bills from her jeans pocket. “Lina…” Chiara begins, eyes watering again.

Carolina simply utters a quiet “Taci” before she comes over and stands in front of us. “Here, four hundred,” she says, handing me the money.

“I am sorry, you’d have to pay it online, by mail, or in person at the city’s finance department. Here…” I hand her the paper, “… all the details are on it.”

She blushes. “Sure,” she mumbles, taking the paper from me and putting it and her money in her backpack. It hurts to see her like that, and I cannot imagine how that proud girl feels right now. “Thank you for looking after her and keeping her safe,” she says, avoiding eye contact. “See you Monday.”

Carolina drapes an arm around Chiara, and they start to leave when I offer, “Wait, how will you get home? We could give you a lift.”

Carolina halts and turns back to face us. “Thanks, but we’ll manage,” she says.

Clay approaches, placing himself in their path. “No arguing, Karen. We’re driving you home.”

Chiara shoots Carolina a look at the name but wisely decides to keep her mouth shut.

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