Page 249 of Ricardo

I press my fingers against my mouth.

The tears come anyway.

Ricardo lifts my hand and holds it against his chest.

I feel his heartbeat beneath my knuckles.

The double doors open.

Everything stops.

A doctor steps out in blue scrubs, cap still on, mask hanging loose at his throat. There is blood on one sleeve. I see it before I see his face.

Ricardo is on his feet.

So is Mario.

Everyone else rises around them, but Ricardo reaches the doctor first.

“Dante Conti,” he says.

The doctor nods. “Mr. Conti?”

“I’m his father.”

“I’m Dr. Kessler. Your son is out of surgery.”

My hand flies to my mouth.

The doctor continues in a voice way too calm. “He lost a significant amount of blood. The bullet caused minor internal damage, but we were able to repair it. He required transfusions, and we’ll be watching him very closely over the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”

Ricardo’s voice is rough. “But he made it.”

The doctor nods. “He made it through surgery.”

Victoria makes a sound beside me and covers her face with both hands.

Mario’s head bows for one second.

Lorenzo turns away sharply.

I cannot breathe.

He made it.

Dante made it.

The words move through me slowly, like molasses. He is alive. He is still hurt. Still unconscious.

But he made it.

My knees nearly give.

Diego catches my elbow before I realize I have swayed.

“You’re all right,” he says quietly.

I nod, though I am not sure he is right.