And all the while, I keep my senses locked on the thread that binds me to Nicole. She’s safe.
A single tear escapes my eye. A real, salted one.
Is this how it all falls apart?
45
Nicole
Day 21
Gaetano was right. I needed that extra time with Daria. I had to tell her that no matter what she hears, I’m safe and happy. And that she’s safe, too. I made her promise not to pose any more questions. If the police contacted her, her surprise would have to seem completely genuine. I didn’t mention that part, of course.
“For God’s sake, Nicole. How can you even ask that of me?” Those were her only words before she closed her eyes for a second… and never uttered another question about the Black Joker.
Then, we spent the night sifting through old memories.
As I pack my bags the next morning, a heaviness settles in my chest. Not long ago, I believed our friendship had withered. Yet here it is—alive, untouched by time or distance. Maybe that’s what true friendship is: recognizing someone’s weakness before they can, and forgiving them regardless. I’m sure that even if we never cross paths again, what we share will last.
At the door, I swallow the lump in my throat. Here I am, losing Daria once again. And this time, it’s for good. “My biggest mistake was pushing you out of my life. If I hadn’t, maybe I would’ve become a better person. But like you always say, everything happens for a reason, right?”
“Youarea good person!” she says with such conviction, I might’ve believed her under different circumstances.
That familiar black feeling coils in my chest. I pull her into a hug.
“You might hear things about me… But I want you to know I’d do the same for you. Only for you.”
Her body stiffens against mine. Maybe she’s trying to make sense of what I just said. For her sake, I hope she doesn’t.
Before I burst into tears, I rush down the stairs. The late morning sun greets me on the street, the asphalt swallowing the quick steps of my sneakers. I hail a taxi and climb inside.
I told Gaetano I’d be staying with Daria until the evening, but there’s somewhere else I need to go.
* * *
I step out of the taxi in front of my parents’ house. The grand façade strikes me with its coldness. How impeccably clean and controlled everything is here. It’s as if luxury and vanity are its only residents.
I glance both ways, checking if my father’s shiny Mercedes is parked down the street. He never bothers with the garage if he’s just dropping by between construction sites and his office. Once I’m sure he’s not home, I ring the outer gate. I’m not afraid of him. But I know my mother is.
A moment passes. I imagine one of the housemaids saw me on the intercom and is now pacing in worry, having overheard whispers that something is wrong with the family. Eventually, she must have decided to alert my mother—or my father, if I’m terribly unlucky and he never left the house at all today.
The gate finally opens, and my mother rushes down the path, her eyes scanning me from head to toe.
“Nicole…” Her gaze falls on my small duffel bag. I shake my head.No, I’m not coming home. She presses her lipstogether in disappointment before speaking again. “Your father said you were at Daria’s. I thought you weren’t friends anymore, not that it matters. What matters is that you’re safe.” She pulls me in and shuts the gate behind me. “He said you threatened him with a knife…” Her eyes widen as they search my face, waiting for me to deny it.
I clench my jaw as the memory resurfaces. “It’s true, Mom. He had no right to show up there.”
“For God’s sake…” She brings a hand to her mouth.
She tries to lead me down the path, but I stay rooted. I gently place my hand on her shoulders because I don’t want my next words to sound like blame. I seek clarity, not excuses. “Why didn’t you do anything when they bullied me in school and Dad told me to handle it on my own?”
“Nicole…” she begins, but her voice catches in her throat. Her fingers fidget with the button on her sleeve. “He always said he knew better than I how to raise you. And he was so nervous, overworked.”
A breeze sweeps past us, rustling the leaves of the hedges behind her. This place has never felt less like home.
“If I confronted him, he would lose his temper. Or worse, turn it all on you. I thought that keeping the peace was the only way to protect you,” she whispers. “I didn’t want to provoke him. Everything was so…fragile. And I wanted you to have the best.”
“The best?” Even I’m surprised by the bitterness in my voice.
