Chapter Sixteen

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When we walk into the house, I can't keep still from sheer anxiety. I don't know what's coming and whether or not I'm in trouble.

Xander and Carlo climb out of the car once we're at the house, I follow them in.

Xander walks directly to Sandro's office. I just go with Carlo into the kitchen, Emilio is already at the stove making a grilled cheese, there's tomato soup simmering next to it. "Hey, figured you'd be home about now."

"I feel some obvious favoritism here, I never come home to Emilio making me lunch," Carlo complains.

"Does wittle Carlo want some of my tomato soup?" I say, reaching up to pinch his cheek.

He rolls his eyes and easily slaps away my hand away, my arm flinches away before I can stop it. Regret flashes over his face and Emilio scowls, "Don't hit your sister, Carlo."

My face flushes with embarrassment, "No, it's fine. I've just been a little jumpy today, sorry," I say softly.

"Don't be sorry," Emilio says, "Carlo is sorry."

"He didn't do anything wrong, I promise," I say, "Just drop it, please."

At that exact moment, I'm thankful for the interruption as Sandro walks into the kitchen.

Emilio turns back to the stove, flipping the sandwich. Alessandro comes and sits at the island across from me and Carlo. He simply pulls out his phone and a piece of paper and begins writing and typing, clearly taking care of business. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, wondering when the ball is gonna drop and he's gonna un-enroll me from school.

I remember when Daniel and mom wouldn't tell me they were gonna punish me so they could catch me when I was off guard. I hated it, but it seemed like that's exactly what Alessandro's doing. Daniel used to say even the smallest slip-up, and my home-life would be hell. I don't doubt that's how Sandro is thinking.

"Am I in trouble?" I ask finally.

My voice is so quiet I doubt he even hears me. 

"What for?" He says, looking up at me and setting his pen and phone down. I hate when he gives me his full attention like that, it makes me feel awkward and inadequate. 

"For getting in trouble at school," I say cautiously.

"No, you aren't in trouble," He says, picking his pen back up, and looking back down at his phone.

But I already feel as though I deserve punishment. "But Daniel used to say that—"

"You aren't with Daniel anymore, Maddie," Sandro cuts me off firmly, "Daniel's way of parenting was wrong and we won't be following his guide to parenting while you're here with us."

"Right, I'm sorry," I say softly.

There's a stiff silence in the kitchen, and I realize someone is missing. Francesco yes, but I don't really mind that too much.

"Where's Elijah?" I ask.

"He had business to take care of," Sandro responds.

I finish my half a sandwich just as Francesco walks into the kitchen, sliding his coat off and draping it onto the back of a chair.

"Hello, brother," Carlo says.

Francesco ignores him, sitting at the table and pulling his phone out of his pocket.

"Hi, Francesco," I say finally.

He looks up at me from his phones in almost surprise and pauses, "Hello, Madison."

He looks back down at his phone and I awkwardly finish the few tablespoons of soup I was given. 

I walk out into the living room where Xander is sitting on the couch on his phone, he looks displeased about something, and I can't help but to think it's because of me bothering him at his locker earlier and then getting in trouble.

"Sorry for bothering you earlier," I say.

He tries to mask his displeased expression slightly which I appreciate but it's still evident he's in a bad mood, "It's not—It's not you," He says.

"Right um...Okay, thanks for the ride," I say, turning to walk away.

Once I'm showered and changed from school, I walk out into the living room. Carlo is laid down on one of the couch. Xander is sitting on the other, his arms slung over the back of the sofa.

They're watching The Conjuring on the TV, "Can I watch with you?" I ask Carlo.

He swings his seat over the front of the couch, giving me pace to sit down, I sit down.

"Sure you're not to scared?" Xander challenges.

"Of course not, I've seen this movie a million times," I say, "I love horror movies."

"Have you ever seen the Exorcist?" He says.

"Not yet," I say, "But I want to."

"We'll have to watch it," He says, looking back at the TV screen.

He doesn't even realize the way that lights up my heart that not only did I just bond with him over the fact that he likes horror movies but that he wants to watch one with me.

I hide the faint smile that threatens to make its way onto my face and draw my attention back onto the movie.

Before I know it, I've dozed off and awaken a few hours later in my bed when a nightmare pulls me out of my light sleep.

Again no recollection, just the faint ghosts of mom and Daniel lingering in the back of my mind.

I slide my feet over the side of the bed and tiptoe out of my room with the intention of getting a glass of water when I see the light from Alessandro's office shining out onto the floor. When I get to his door, I see him sitting in his desk chair talking to Elijah who's standing at the side of his desk.

They don't see me, but my eyes are drawn to Elijah.

The first thing I see is the bruises on his fists as he wraps his knuckles in ace bandage.

The way he's talking so calmly to Sandro as he does so, but then my eyes make contact with the splatter of blood on his shirt and the sight steals my breath from my lungs.

I swallow, finding such a small task almost impossible because of the lump in my throat. I take impossibly deep breaths as my vision begins to spot in and out. My heart pounds so hard, I can hear it in my ears. 

Both of my brother's eyes land on me in the doorway.

But I can't move from the spot, my eyes are stuck on the blood on Elijah's shirt, the bruising on his knuckles. I try to swallow again, the uneasiness contorting my face.

Alessandro says something but it sounds distant and echo-y. Elijah begins to walk forward but I take a step away and he stops.

He and Alessandro both follow my stare to the blood on Elijah's shirt. Elijah pulls off the blood stained white tee and approaches me, but I jolt back so hastily, I stumble.

Alessandro puts his hand in front of Elijah to stop him and approaches me slowly.

He's speaking but the only thing I can hear is the blood pulsating in my ears as my eyes are stuck on the blood stained tee in Elijah's hands. Alessandro gently grabs my chin between his thumb and index finger and forces me to look at him.

This is Alessandro.

I can trust him. Can't I? I couldn't trust Daniel. But he's not like Daniel...Is he?

I'm sure Alessandro can tell that I can't hear anything he's saying, but he continues to talk. I stand there keeping my eyes on him, his hands on my arms as he kneels to my level, continuing to talk. 

I begin to feel a wobbling feeling as my head pulses so hard my vision blacks in and out, and before I know it, everything has blacked out completely.

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