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I look at the wall.

The one with Valentino on the other side.

"Not really," I say. For once, I leave it there. No joke. No bow. "But I will be."

She breathes out slowly. Vittoria has never needed me to pretend I was okay for her, which is probably why I love her more than my actual family.

"Take me off speaker," I say.

A rustle. A door closes on her end. Dmitri's low murmur cuts off.

"Done," she says. "It's just me."

"Valentino and I..." I stop. Start over, quieter.

"Something happened, Vee. We got close. Closer than close. Then they took him into a room to kill him, and he smiled at me like he was saying goodbye."

My throat tightens until I can barely get the next words out.

"He was going to die. He walked through their gates on purpose so they'd let me go. All of it feels like it happened to someone else, and I'm the one stuck with the bruises.

Vittoria is quiet for a long moment.

When she speaks, her voice is steady, but I can hear the worry underneath it.

"There are things that need to be settled first," she says. "When they are, you and I are sitting down, and you're telling me everything. All of it. From the beginning."

"Okay," I whisper.

"Amanda."

"Yeah?"

"He doesn't let people close. Nobody."

I press my hand flat against the wall beside my bed, against the cool paint, like I might feel him through it.

"I know," I say.

Valentino

The doctor leaves me on my stomach, head turned sideways on a pillow that smells like bleach.

"Weeks," he told me. "You won't lie on your back for weeks."

Then he left.

Here I am, stitched from shoulder to hip, pinned to a hospital bed with my face toward the floor and an IV line taped to my hand.

I hate it.

The pain hasn't arrived yet. Whatever they gave me keeps most of it at bay, but I can feel it there, waiting. The pull of every stitch. The heat under the bandages. The deep ache in my shoulders from the rope.

Footsteps move fast in the corridor.

Not a nurse. Not the doctor.

Then a sob catches at the door.