Amara

Chapter 11 - Parents

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"Don't explain your philosophy. Embody it"

- Epictetus
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Amara's POV:

I have never seen a room this big. I mean what the hell. It's huge. There isn't anything in it yet. Just a bed. But still. I lived on a mattress on the floor. Anything is better than that. The bed is placed right in the corner of the room. And overlooks the whole of New York. It's beautiful. "Is it okay?" Salvatore asks from behind me.

"Are you kidding? It's amazing" I say. "I've never even seen a room this big. Are these..."

"Bookshelves? Yeah, the designers added it to this room. They thought it would look good. We can get rid of it if you want to" he rushes the last part of his sentence out.

"No! No. Umm... I'm sorry, I wanna keep them. I love reading, I just never had the money to buy the books".

"I'll get you as many books as you can read," he says. "How about you go to bed now, and tomorrow we can get you everything we need?" he says.

"Yeah. Thank you, for taking me in by the way" I tell him, not sure how I should phrase the sentence. "It's your home as much as it is mine. Buona notte Amara," he says.

"That's Italian, right?" I abruptly ask.

"Si" he answers as he walks out of the room.

Once the door closes behind him, I walk over to my bags and start to unpack. Well, I think unpacking is a strong word to use when you own less than 10 pieces of clothing. I reach into the side of the bag and pull out the gold signet that I took with me from home. I look around the room for somewhere to hide it, and for now, choose to place it under my clothes in the drawer.

I step into the bathroom, and the shower is bigger than my previous bed back in Chicago. I undress, leave my clothes on the floor, and step into the open shower. Turning it on to a hot temperature, allowing the water to cleanse my skin.

Not long after, I step out and dry off with the dark towel next to me. I walk back to my room and put on my pyjamas. Slipping under the soft sheets. And for the first time, I drift off into sleep. Knowing that my life has changed forever. Hopefully for the better.

Salvatore's POV:

I make my way to my room just down the hall from Amara's. I go to get ready but before I can even start my phone begins to ring. I look over and my phone, the caller ID reading 'Papà'. I answer the phone and hold it up to my ear. Not too close to where the screaming will deafen me. "Caio Papà," I say, my native Italian accent running through my speech.

"Caio! Caio! No ci provare Salvatore!" (Don't you dare). He shouts down the end of the phone. God, I've fucked up

"Mi displaces Papà" (I'm sorry) I reply to him.

"Your mother has been worried sick Salvatore! No call? No text! For three days! We thought you and your brother were kidnapped! We thought you were both dead!" He screams down the phone. I've really fucked up.

"I'm sorry. I have been very busy. Something came up" hoping that the sentence would reassure him.

"Don't try that with me, Salvatore". I thought my voice was menacing. But even as an adult, this tone makes me shiver. "I am on my way now to talk to you. So is your mother. We will be there soon, so you better have an explanation."