Olivia chews on that for a moment, looking at her hands. She shakes her head. “Don’t repeat that, okay? I’m not saying people will think you’re a spy or whatever, but maybe don’t put it out there, just in case.”
I groan and put my face in my hands. “What am I supposed to do then?”
“I don’t know, but just don’t tell anyone else what you just told me. I trust Casso with my life, but I also know he’ll do anything for his family, and I can’t promise that he won’t overreact and do something stupid.”
I take a few steps back. “Olivia. Are you joking right now?”
She twists her hair around one finger. “I wish I were. I’m just saying, the way you laid it out to me, you just made it sound like you’re an enemy spy or something. Things are extremely dangerous right now and you can’t just make accusations like that without thinking them through. I’m telling you to think for a while, okay? I trust you, don’t worry about it, but just be careful. I’m making it worse, aren’t I?”
“Yes! You really are!”
Olivia’s smile returns, but it doesn’t look friendly. If anything, she looks like a lioness showing her teeth before diving in for a kill.
This whole family’s broken and psychotic. I was just thinking out loud and making connections, and now Olivia’s telling me that if I mention all those things to anyone else, I might be in danger from the only people that can protect me right now. I’m trapped in a funhouse mirror and there’s no way to escape. It’s insane and terrifying, and I don’t know how to process all this. I’m overwhelmed, and as I start to pace again, one final realization falls over my shoulders like a warm jacket on a winter day.
This was always temporary. I came here thinking I’d do a job then leave, but I never imagined it would last very long. I’ve already been here for a couple weeks and I’ve made decent progress with Fynn. He’s not fully back to normal and he needs way more work and healing to make serious strides, but we’ve come a long way. He doesn’t need me anymore, not really. I could give him a routine to follow, exercises to go, mobility work, all that good stuff. He wouldn’t need me sitting here looking over his shoulder.
And maybe I’d be safer if I left all this behind.
“You’ve been really helpful,” I tell Olivia and walk back toward my bedroom. “I think I need some time to process. Is that okay?”
“Uh, yeah, sure, whatever you need.”
“I’ll see you later.” I hurry away, throwing myself into my room. I wait until I hear her leave before I grab my luggage and begin to fill it to the brim with clothes.
I have to get out of here. I’m no good to my mom if I get myself killed in this mafia family drama. If I slip up and say the wrong thing, Casso might torture me himself. Or if I make a mistake and expose myself somehow, Cillian could shoot me in the face and end it all. My safety is tenuous at best, and the only thing I can do right now is to run, run away fast, and hope that I can hide out until this mess blows over.
I don’t want to leave Fynn. The thought stabs a dagger into my heart, but I need to do this. My mother is my priority and has been for years, and all my plans will be forfeit, all my hard work will disappear, and all her sacrifice will have been for nothing if I get myself killed in this house. I need to survive, if not for myself, then for my mother.
I lug my heavy suitcase into the hall, and as I head toward the door, another knock pounds. I hesitate, not sure what to do, heart racing. But the person on the other side doesn’t wait for a response.
Fynn comes into the room. He looks around and spots me, frowning deeply as his eyes roam from my face, to my lips, to the luggage at my hip.
“What are you doing?” he asks slowly.
“I was, uh—” I stop, not sure what I can say. Lie to him? Pretend I’m not running? But he said I could go anytime I want. “I’m leaving.”
He frowns slightly and pulls the door shut behind him. I don’t move, not an inch. Olivia’s warning rings in my skull: don’t tell anyone. Fynn isn’t Casso, but he is still very much of the Bruno Famiglia, and his loyalties are clear. It’s his family over everything else.
“You’re running away,” he says, coming deeper into the room.
I watch him warily. “We both know I’m not safe here anymore.”
“Why do you think that?”