“I wasn’t messaging anyone.” I put the phone on her lap. “They were messaging me. Massimo. My brother, Massimo.”
Willa flips the phone open and navigates it with competent ease.
“You didn’t erase these,” she says of my brother’s messages.
“I didn’t realize I could.”
I also didn’t realize I should, because I’m a fool.
“You called first.” She holds up the phone, showing me a list on the screen that I’m supposed to understand.
“I was just seeing if I still knew his number.”
“You do, apparently.” She listens to Massimo’s message about how much he cares about what I think of him. How my family loves me. How it’s not over, and I should hide. When it’s done, she takes it from her ear. “Did you remember anybody else’s number? This one?”
She holds up the phone again.
“Denise. My best friend.”
She hands the phone back to me. “For your own safety, one of us needs to tell Dario, and I think it should be me.”
“I’ll do it.”
“He may not take it well.”
He won’t. He’ll be mad I was the first to call and mad that I didn’t tell him about the messages.
“What can he do to me that he hasn’t already done?”
“You want to find out?” She sighs and sits back. “Because I sure don’t.”
She’s a sensible woman who’s terrified of a wild animal. I’m confident I can talk reason to the hungry bear, maybe soothe it by stroking its fur. At the very least, I can submit and play dead while the savage rages and ravages.
“He should be mad,” I say. “I should have told him. After everything that happened today, he has to be able to trust me.”
She sighs, then says, “I should have come up here at the start of this whole plan. Taken you down to the island myself. First thing. But I let him talk me into waiting. Now it’s too late.”
We pass Tommy’s Pizzeria, then pass the red brick church. FIND PEACE! has been replaced with DON’T CRY, COME BY! Connor makes the left into the sparser, darker part of town. We’re going to be back soon, and I have things to get off my chest.
“I love him,” I say into my lap. “I don’t want to. I know it’s wrong. I got lazy, but it’s so hard, Willa. He makes me feel safe. He gave me a place in the world, and it’s not just for convenience. I’m not an accident for him. He cleared a place in his heart for me. I’m his choice. And that changed me. It opened me. It broke my shell and I just poured out through the cracks.” I pick up my head—vision splotched with bursts of color and light before it settles into crystal clarity. “I’m all these pieces and I’m everywhere.”
I open my arms to indicate the mess I made of the whole wide world. She takes the opportunity to hug me.
“Dario cannot love you the way you love him.”
“I know.”
“I’m on your side, Sarah. And by that, I mean between you and Dario, I’m on both your sides, but I will stand by you.”
“Once I tell him, he’s going to kill Massimo.”
“He might.”
“I don’t want him to.”
“Then I’ll say something I’ll regret.” She sits back and folds her hands in her lap. “We’ll all have to explain ourselves to God. None of us have to explain ourselves to Dario Lucari. Whether or not you tell him about these texts is up to you. It’s your choice.”
When she offers me control, a burden lifts from my shoulders. All I have to do is not sink under the weight of everything else.
My phone vibrates. She hands it to me. I feel her eyes on me as I open it.
Massimo.
—You listened to it—
“He knows?” I show her the screen. “How?”
“It’s in your settings.” She takes the phone and pokes around. “I’ll shut off read receipts.”
“Does it ever stop?” I ask. “Because I want to throw this thing out a window.”
“You get used to it. Come look.” I lean over to watch what she’s doing. “Press menu, then settings, scroll like this, here, here, to read receipts, and it looks like you can choose everyone or no one.”
“No one then.”
“Dario probably has it set up so he knows when you’ve read his messages. Play with that shit at your peril.” She hands me the phone.
Will I play with that shit?
I will not.
I close the phone without changing the settings. Navigating the outside world isn’t what I expected. There are too many trapdoors, and I’m blindfolded, hobbled, hands tied behind my back.
We pull through the gate and down the drive.
“Sarah,” Willa says, “I want you to listen to me, one last time.”
“Okay.”
“You’ve been sheltered to the extreme your entire life. You can only do so much.”
“And I’m a liar. To Dario. About Emo’s messages.”
“You can fix that.”
“I will. I’m going to fix everything.”
“Sarah…” Her tone is a warning. “No one can fix everything.”
“But everyone should try.”
She doesn’t nod or say she agrees, but she does. I know she does.
The first thing I have to do is tell Dario.
Connor stops in front of the house and turns around to the back seat. “We’re here, lassies.”
“I need to go to JFK,” Willa says. “You can take me there or drop me home. I’ll get a cab.”
“I’ll take you.” He gets out, leaving us alone.
“You’re going?” I already knew she would leave, but the moment came sooner than I thought it would.
“You’ll be fine.” She squeezes my hand. “I promise. You have everything you need.”
“But I don’t know how to drive.” I’m trying not to cry. “And I trust you, Willa. I never thought I’d trust my husband’s ex-wife more than I trust myself but—”
She breaks out in laughter, and I join her.
“You are your husband’s wife,” Willa says, carefully wiping away a tear. “I never thought I’d say this to anyone, but Dario loves you. If anyone can change the trajectory of his life, it’s you.”
Connor opens my door and stands there.
I hug Willa a long time. Let him wait.
CHAPTER 28
DARIO
When things fall apart, it’s from the center. The chaos spreads outward—out of control, out of reach. I know the pattern. We broke into Chuck Laraby’s Central Park West townhouse with the perfect plan. Planned for all external contingencies. The center would hold if I kept mouths shut and held on to the take longer than I promised.
Our own mistakes almost got us killed. Peaches needed money, Shakey had a big mouth, and I was young.
Shakey became Tongueless, but no amount of retribution could undo the central collapse of trust. The inside weakened, and the unit broke.
The Colonia know—after tonight—how strong I am, but when I drag my bloodstained soul home, I don’t feel strong. I feel tired. Bone-weary. Ready to explode.