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Because if I do anything else, it will break both of us.
"I hate it when you remind me of him. But I know I'll hate it even more if you don't."
Sarica's fists clench while she's speaking. She's always been the type to hate waiting. But there's nothing else she can do now. Nothing anyof us can do but that.
We wait.
Despair swells up inside of me, and I turn my gaze desperately to the Common. Views of it from our estate are unparalleled throughout the city. It's a luxury that other famiglie have been known to secretly covet. Nowadays, however, our enemies have all come out of hiding, and they're acting like it's open season for my famiglia.
Because they think they smell blood.
And maybe it's true.
Maybe it's their souls warning them with an omen.
Because the blood that they're smelling?
It's not ours, but theirs.
And I pray they'll realize it's so...before anyone gets hurt.
"Do you know why I think he's still alive?"
Sarica's question catches me off guard, but it's her jerky tone that has me gritting my teeth.
Don't you dare cry, Gaz!
Because as much as all of this pains me, I also know no one has it harder than Sarica.
So. Don't. You. Dare.
I barely manage to shake my head, and a ghost of a smile touches Sarica's lips. "Do you remember how much I used to hate going to those Bible studies you dragged me to?"
My brows furrow. I'm not sure where she's going with this.
"And how I'd give everyone a hard time because I think it's all a bunch of shit?"
Her words bring back memories that almost make me smile.
Maybe you need to hear me say it the old-school way. We're the fucking mafia, Gaz. You can't expect me to wear a cross around my neck and believe in it, too!
Yes, I do remember those times.
I remember so very clearly how Sarica would try her hardest to pretend she didn't care, and I also remember just as clearly how Sarica wasn't able to fool anyone even then.
Oh yes, I remember.
"There was this one verse that I'd always end up thinking of," Sarica reveals as I turn to face her, "every time I see you or Giancarlo doing something so annoyingly and foolishly honorable."
And even though I'm still not sure where this is going—-
"The LORD will fight for you," Sarica whispers, "you need only to be still.”
My heart is starting to break for some reason.
"And that's w-why," Sarica chokes out. "T-That's why, I can't imagine either of you dying like this. I refuse to believe He'd let either of you die like this."
Everything is suddenly, wonderfully, and painstakingly clear.
