Finding Her

C H A P T E R - T W O

When she smiles at me her chubby cheeks get bigger and a part of me just wants to reach out and pinch them— wait. No. I sound like my nonna.

Fuck, what is this kid doing to me?

"What was that?" I tease, hoping to hear her soft voice. Her cheeks tint a slight pink.

"Sí," She mumbles, hiding her smile.

My heart went ablaze at her little Italian word. She's learning off of me and I didn't even mean for her to.

Don't get attached Valerius. I need to keep reminding myself.

"Well then..", I lean my head down to whisper to her. "Let's go." I kiss her forehead before I could even stop myself. I pause, registering what I did. My throat clears.

I didn't want to do that. Why did I do that?

The kid isn't yours. Don't get attached.

I pick up the girl and set her on down to her feet, my hand holding hers so she doesn't run.

A notification pings my phone.

An email from an girls orphanage here in Italy. I called a few places last night.

A lump forms in my throat, my stomach feeling queasy. I set a reminder to check the email back later. I shove my phone away.

I grab ahold of both Eleonora's hands because I know she can't walk well. She stays in front of me as we walk. I pull her higher when she starts to fall so she won't hit the ground.

I watch her squint at the beaming sun. On the last step I tug her arms up high so she jumps before landing on the ground. My heart squeezes at the smile on her face, a barely audible giggle escaping her lips.

I force my face to be unreadable. I try my best not to react to how foolish the child makes me feel.

I ignore my guards who stand outside and the driver who stands outside of my car, ready to take us home. I walk Eleonora over to the edge of the platform.

The port was on higher ground than the town so we stand above, looking over the country. I take the chance to hold her up by her armpits and set her on my hip.

Her eyes sparkle at the sights. This is the place I grew up. My first and only real home.

"This. This is Italy, piccolina."

• • •

The next day comes and I make a call to our family doctor. One of the more important reasons I came back to Italy. I won't trust just anyone with my— this child.

Carlo Sanchez is our family doctor, he's in his fifties and he's who I trust to keep the kid a secret. He knows I'm coming, he doesn't know what for. Carlo only knows to keep me being back in Italy a secret. Because of the secret, I go into the hospital through the back entrance, hoping not to be seen.

I feel like I'm smuggling drugs.

I don't knock when I reach Carlo's office, I barge in.