Chapter 1
I’m cold, so cold. The sharp wind is sifting through my body like sand and I can’t help but feel every part of it. I had stumbled out of the club, but I hadn’t thought about what I would do after.
It is past 8 now. I know because there’s a big clock on the bank across the street. It’s cold.
I have nothing with me, except my bag. I don’t even remember bringing that. Why do I have it? I am in the clothes from earlier, horridly put on hours before. I think I left my bra on the club floor.
I rub my hands against each other, but that doesn’t melt away any of the numbness. I feel like a Thanksgiving turkey. Cold and dead.
The streets are still full of people; after all, it was New York City. But now, they are filled with different people.
An old woman passes by me, her hair the color of the cotton candy at fairs. Bright, neon pink. She narrows her eyes, and says directly at me, “What are you doing here alone?”
I swallow hard. For hours there, standing alone in the corner, I thought I might be slowly turning invisible.
“I, I just, I” I stutter. I must look like a freak because she nods quickly and starts briskly walking past me. “I can’t go back home,” I mutter after her. I don’t think she heard.
I can’t.
I also can’t take in New York City at night, in its most glamorous state. I don’t have a gnawing feeling in the back of my mind that itches for a camera. I just feel empty.
Mafia.
It can’t be. But what reason would he have to lie about that? He was a monster, but I felt the chilling truth in his words as he enunciated “your dad” and “murder” more than once.
I need a place to stay for the night. Where can I go?
I look around. And suddenly, even pressed up against millions of people in one city, I feel more alone than ever.
Had I imagined that old lady? Did people even see me? Was I really invisible?
I force myself to move because I had heard what would happen if you stopped moving during the cold. I could go numb, frozen, get hypothermia. I grab my phone from my bag, the one my father had bought me, not the one that monster had forced to have too. I look at the black screen I had shut off hours before.
Who can I call?
Finally I swipe, my thumb tapping on the screen hard when it freezes, making my decision.
"How could you?”
“Caterina, is that you??” Uncle Smoke’s voice comes through the phone, and I realize it’s been so long since I last heard it. Since he went to chase down his wife and bring her back. But I don’t feel warm in my heart like I used to. I don’t feel safe. I don’t feel happy.
I don’t reply.
“Caterina, amore, we have been looking for you for hours! Where are you?”
“I don’t want to talk about where I freaking am. I want to know how you could do that to me. I thought you loved me!”
“Bella, you need to calm down, alright? Tell me where you are so I can pick up. I promise you will not get into trouble with your parents.”
I ignore him. “You knew. This whole time-” my voice breaks as I gasp. “You knew, and you were a part of it.”
His voice is calm and slow. “Part of what...?”
“An effing Mafia. I’m part of an effing Mafia. And no one told me anything. For fifteen years, you let me live in a bubble, let me think I was normal. How could you do that Uncle? I trusted you.”
By now, tears are streaming down my face.
There’s a beat of silence, before I hear Smoke’s voice. It sounds much closer to the phone, and more panicked. “I...I apologize bella. I am so sorry. Let me come and get you and we can talk about it then. You can hit me if you want. Per favore, bella. Come home.” I can hear his voice wavering.
He was terrified.
“Why are you scared, Uncle?” I taunt. “You think I’m going to say something to someone? Like the fact my family IS IN THE MAFIA!” I raise my voice, yelling.
“Caterina! Don’t! You have no idea how many people are out for you. Please-”
I wipe my tears from my cheeks, holding the phone with in the crook of my neck. “I know there are people out for me. But I thought you were here for me though. And you lied.
Family doesn’t effing lie.”
“I can explain-”
I hang up on him.
My hands are shaking. Did I actually do that?
I scroll through my Contact’s list again until I come across the name that I want.
It rings once. Again. A third time. Then:
“Cat? What’s wrong?”
“Mell, please come and get me, please, please. I-please.”
