Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“How long have you been awake?”
“Long enough,” she replies. “I heard what you said about me hating that you’re with a criminal.”
“I know, Aunt Rosa. You don’t approve. I can’t expect you to.”
“It’s not as simple as that,” she murmurs. “I wish it was. Honey, I need to tell you something. I don’t know how long I’ve got left—”
“Don’t speak like that. Giulia says you’ve been doing better.”
“Have I?” Her old smile touches her face. “That’s good to hear but difficult to believe. So I can recover from this, can I?”
“With the right care—which you have now—yes, you can and will.”
“I have to tell you anyway,” she goes on. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t. Please, just let me explain. I don’t hate your boyfriend. I hate myself.”
Something ugly rises in me. My throat closes as heartache threatens to choke me. On some twisted level, it’s like I know what she’s going to say or part of it. All her hints stack in my mind until they’re an impossible-to-ignore tower. “It’s about the fire.”
“You’ve always been such a perceptive girl. I’ve tried to drop hints about it over the years. I think you’ve just been ignoring them.”
“You don’t have to say anything you’ll regret,” I mutter.
“I’ll regret not telling you even more.”
“You’re not thinking straight.”
“It’s the opposite. For the first time in weeks, I am thinking clearly, and you can see that. I know you can,” she insists.
I know that Guillain-Barré Syndrome can grant sufferers moments of clarity, similar to dementia. “Okay …”
Aunt Rosa bites down, then says, “I was dating a criminal for several months. I thought we were in love. I thought he was a good man, though I ignored his stealing and gambling. I turned a blind eye to so much else, truth be told—the violence, the evilness. I told myself I knew him. I told myself, despite the world he lived in, he was different.”
Tears prick my eyes. When I try to cut in, she stubbornly shakes her head.
“You have to let me tell you,” she says sternly, “before I go all fuzzy-headed again.”
I swallow, then nod for her to go on.
“Then I walked in on him with another woman … and the woman was, oh, God, she wasn’t … Do you know what I’m hinting at?”
“The woman didn’t want to be there,” I mutter with a pit in my belly.
“Yes. So I called the cops. He beat me terribly, but I saved that woman. I ended things with him. I hated him, but he wouldn’t leave me alone. He developed a sick obsession with me. We had arguments. He wouldn’t quit. Eventually, he made a vicious threat. He was going to destroy the only family I had: my sister, her husband, and sweet children.”
“Aunt Rosa,” I moan, clasping her hand in both of mine, a twisted mixture of shock, resentment, and heartache clashing inside of me. “Oh my God.”
“He did it,” Aunt Rosa sobs. “I didn’t think he was serious. I told the police. They said they’d look into it but didn’t find anything. When I heard the news, I wanted them to arrest me. The police ruled it an accident, despite what I said. Corruption? Or maybe they thought it was a coincidence? Then, years later, that sick monster sent me a video in the mail. He admitted to what he did. Then he—on video—ended it. He ended himself.”
Aunt Rosa bursts into the most heart-wrenching tears her frail body will allow her. I almost leap to my feet and nearly scream at her.
Instead, I sit back with a numb feeling cloaking me, struggling to accept that any of this is real. It seems impossible that something so vicious and ugly could be true.
“If he admitted it, surely the police know now.”
“Yes. It’s on public record. I’ve been waiting for you to find out for years.” She talks between choked sobs. “Like the coward I am, I should’ve told you.”
“This is why you hate Dario,” I snap. “This is why you don’t want me to be with him. Do you think he’d ever do anything like this? Do you think he’d ever even think about it? Dario would get justice for Mom, Dad, and Stevey if that man were still alive. Dario would beat him to death, and I’d be right there, cheering him on!”
Aunt Rosa’s hand trembles as she reaches up and paws at her cheeks. Despite the argument, seeing her even be able to do this feels like a small victory. She couldn’t have moved like that just a short time ago.
“I’m so sorry,” she moans. I stand up, about to storm out, but Aunt Rosa gasps. “Please. Stay. Hate me if you want, but stay. I don’t know when my mind will be this clear again. What if it never is? Elena, I love you. I never wanted this to happen. I should’ve forced your mother to move out of that house. I should’ve taken all of you and ran.”