A shaky breath expels from my lungs, and I rub my eyes. Stress sits heavy in my chest, the ever-present feeling that refuses to leave my body, and likely won’t until I get Vinnie home safely.
The hall of the hospital is bright despite the early morning hour, and I realize I have no idea where they took Maurizio. Retrieving my phone from my pocket, I call Luciano.
His phone rings continuously, and I’m about to hang up when he finally answers. “Hello?”
“You sound exhausted, amico.”
“You could say that.”
“Vinnie has requested an update,” I tell him as I walk further from her door toward the elevator. “What floor are you on?”
“Christ. There’s no update that I want to give to my sister right now. We’re on the third floor. In the waiting room.”
“I’m on my way.”
Hanging up, I press the elevator call button and step into it when the doors open moments later. The ride from the fourth floor down to the third is short, and when I step into the hallway, I follow the signs to the waiting room.
Upon opening the doors, I am immediately engulfed with the sadness around me.
Luciano sits next to his mother, his arm around her shoulders as she sleeps, her head leaning on him. Two dried rivers of black mascara track down her cheeks from the tears she’s shed, and there is still a tremor to her breathing, even in slumber.
Beside her, Vinnie’s youngest brother, Samuele, is asleep with his head propped in his hand. He looks uncomfortable, yet somehow content.
But Luciano is wide awake, his eyes bloodshot and dry, as he stares at me from across the room.
“Can’t sleep?” I ask quietly, taking the chair across from him.
“My brother is dead. My sister was kidnapped by said dead brother, and my father is undergoing surgery that he may or may not make it out of. So no, I can’t sleep.”
“Your sister is doing well. She’s stronger than you think she is.”
“I know exactly how strong she is,” he counters. “She’s a Paladino.”
Smirking, I shake my head. “She’s a Lucchetti now, but I suppose that just means strength runs through her both in blood and in name.”
Luciano nods his head in agreement, a far off look in his eye.
The room grows quiet, with only the low voices coming from an infomercial on the TV that hangs in the corner.
“What is the update on your father?” I ask. “You said he is in surgery?”
“He was coherent in the ambulance, and when they brought him into the emergency room, but about thirty minutes later, he began having shortness of breath, grew ghastly pale, and then he completely lost consciousness. The doctor made it into the room just as he began to crash and rushed him back for emergency surgery. They didn’t elaborate—I still don’t fully understand what is happening. I’m a lawyer, not a doctor.”
ButIam, and going back for emergency surgery after a heart attack is not nothing. It typically indicates a blockage of some sort. Or worse.
I do not wish to worry him further, so I don’t press the topic more. “Can I get you anything? Would you like a coffee?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m probably going to try and get some sleep in this horribly uncomfortable chair. How’s V?”
“They’re running some tests and will observe her for several hours, but she is okay. I hope she is asleep now. Exhaustion and dehydration are the biggest causes of concern.”
“Good.”
Standing, I walk to him and squeeze his shoulder. “If you need me, just call. I am one floor above you.”
“Thanks. Tell my sister to rest.”
“Trust me, mio amico. I’m trying.”
