Blood is thicker than water

Chapter 33

Raffaele POV:

I've never been a fan of loud places. 

Through all that I've grown up around and with everyone I've ever met, I could easily say that those who've been raised with chaos thrive in it. They rejoice in loud thumping music, and feel uncomfortable to be left alone with their own thoughts, their own emotions, their own vices. But I've never had anything else.

I have never been outgoing and wanting to participate, never preferred to play in the game of football my brothers and cousins all enjoyed at family events over sitting with the adults and listening quietly. What had been failed to be perceived by not only everyone else, but also myself, was that I was never shy. 

It wasn't until I didn't have my mother anymore, and once my little sister vanished, that I realized there was a difference. I was always told I was shy, I was labelled with it because I was too young to express that I was simply introverted. It was no one's fault, nobody knew and that included me. 

The loss of the two changed all of us, my dad arguably the most, but no one saw the change in me because I was already labelled. 

It was for the best.

Angelo had one less person to run after and worry about. Domenico was thrown into the care of our wellbeing because my father became incapable, Francesco had been determined to do the same, Angelo became constanty worried about us all and the twins lacked steady upbringing.

And this was all seperate from our individual greiving processes. 

So I had to be ok. 

It worked out better, anyways, because expressing my emotions has never been my cup of tea. I've never had any interest in people pretending to understand what it is I'm thinking. They simply can't understand when I don't. 

By the time our sister was thrust back into our lives, it was too late to cause a monumental change in us. The presence of Adelina, alive and infront of us, did not necessarily stop the bleeding of our hearts. 

A fool would be the only one blind enough to miss the scars layered under the honey hues of her eyes. So we all mourned, we mourned that piece of her, the only one we've ever known, never coming back. 

No one dared ask anything, she clearly did not want to tell, and a large elephant in the room has been suffocating us ever since.

No one wanted to be the one to ask our baby sister to unpack her baggage.

Since she's gotten here, safe and under our roof, we've all been trying to put a name to the demons that so evidently follow her, with no success. We've all caughten a glimpse of the shadows creeping over her shoulders, the smokey black hand pinching her nose and have seen how effortless she looks while trying to push them away. 

But now is different. Now, she stands on the stairs in silence. She had been speaking in circles, the most off her game I've ever seen her even after the attack she had yesterday, I could now see her crack.

We all stand shocked, all processing the first piece of raw emotion we've seen from her. And such an unidentifiable emotion it is. Her arms lay limp by her sides and the fight that has been warming her eyes was extinguished swiftly. 

We could all recognize it now, the invisible lever that had been pulled, the one that shut off all the lights to tell us no one was home. Not one of us could argue that we didn't see it.

From silence, we were stunned into stupefaction.

Francesco is the first to attempt to step forward, to regain her focus, and suddenly that jolted us all into action.