reticent

23

• LORENZO •

The ambulance is cold.

     My eyes water as I hold an unconscious Amalia's hand, trying to warm up her freezing fingers with mine as one of the paramedics hold an oxygen mask over her face. A fucking oxygen mask.

     "She'll be fine, Mr Romano." The woman assures me. She sighs. "But there are signs of a fractured wrist, although we won't be sure of it until we get an x-ray."

Cole and Elijah went to check if she was in the changing rooms, and a few minutes later they reappeared in the theatre, their baby sister in the formers arms.

Everyone turned to look. I don't give a fuck about that, but what I do give a fuck about is her little boyfriend, who suspiciously wasn't in the theatre. He wasn't anywhere, but I saw him during Amalia's dance. So he was here.

And I think he did this to her.

"Okay." I whisper.

Cole—who's with me now—refused to let go of her until the ambulance got here. He held her to his chest, and I think he's still shaking. That's why his brothers let him come with us, while they make their own way to the hospital she's going to.

"She's gonna be fine, Cole." I whisper to him. "She just said it."

He leans back, crossing his legs at the ankles. He nods. Then nods again. Then he keeps nodding, and my expression softens as his eyes water.

     I wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull him in for a hug. "I thought she was fucking dead or something, dad. She wasn't moving, and she was so pale.. and, oh my God, her whole face is swollen."

     My chest cracks open. He thought she had died.

     "I thought I'd never get to talk to her again, dad." He mumbles. "I thought she was gone, dad."

"She's not." I assure him. "Look," I say, grabbing his hand and setting his fingers over Amalia's wrist. "You can feel her pulse. She's here. She's still with us. She's our little survivor."

He nods again, looking over at her. His eyes stray toward where his fingers are touching her wrist, and he peers his eyes. "There's bruises. On her wrists."

     "What?" I ask. I sit forward and look at her wrist, tilting my head. Yellow, purple and black mixes together around the tops of her hands. My jaw hardens as anger flares in me.

• ARCHER •

I leave the theatre after Ally wins her first place prize, sending her a reassuring smile. It's all I was waiting for, but now I need to go make sure Amalia is okay.

     I push the door open and step out into the hallway. My eyes widen when I see two of Amalia's older brothers running my way.

With Amalia in one of their arms.

They rush past me, but not before I notice Amalia's battered face. My eyes slip down to her wrist, which is bent in a way bones shouldn't be able to bend. But what draws my attention the most is the hand-shaped bruises forming around her neck and wrists.