Fragile Longing

“Good morning,” I said, my voice rough from sleep and crying.

Dad looked up from behind his newspaper. Dark shadows spread below his eyes, and when I kissed his cheek, the stench of smoke drifted into my nose.

“Are you smoking again?” I asked, worried. “That’s not healthy.”

Dad gave me a small smile, then he scanned my outfit. “Maybe you should get dressed.”

My brows furrowed. “It’s the weekend.”

“Danilo spent the night. He might be down any moment, and I’m sure you don’t want to be in your nightclothes around him.”

My eyes widened in surprise. “Why is he here?”

Dad looked down at his newspaper. If he was reluctant to tell me, it could only be about Fina. “He wasn’t doing so well after your sister helped Remo escape, so I picked him up last night and let him spend the night.”

I nodded, my eyes beginning to prickle. “Of course. Umm . . . I’ll get dressed now.” I stepped back and headed back out.

I’d thought Danilo was over Fina, but if Dad had to pick him up, he must have been very drunk—like Samuel.

Lost in my thoughts, I trudged through the second-floor corridor when someone stepped out of one of the guestrooms. I noticed too late and ran right into him—Danilo, of course.

He grabbed my upper arms to steady me. I glanced up, cheeks burning. Danilo was in a crinkled shirt and dark pants that smelled faintly of alcohol and smoke. Yesterday’s clothes.

His eyes were bloodshot and swirled with a myriad of dark emotions that filled my heart with dread. I’d never seen him like this. He looked heartbroken over my sister running away. It wasn’t the reaction of someone who didn’t care about her anymore.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, after all I’d almost run him over. He briefly scanned my outfit, and I cringed inwardly. This wasn’t the impression I wanted to make.

He released me and stepped back. “No need to apologize,” he said in a voice that spoke of a long night. “Is your father downstairs?”

“Yes, he is.”

I gave him a forced smile and excused myself, wanting to make myself presentable to salvage my dignity. Fina had never paraded around Danilo in childish nightclothes.

I wanted to scream in frustration, but instead I got dressed in a nice dress before I rushed back downstairs, hoping I could make up for my first appearance, but when I stepped into the dining room, Danilo wasn’t there.

Mom and Dad sat at the table, drinking coffee.

“Where’s Danilo?” I asked as I settled across from Mom.

“He needed to return to Indianapolis,” Dad said.

I nodded, hardly able to contain my disappointment. Mom didn’t say anything. She looked exhausted, and her eyes were swollen from crying.

I reached for the pancakes and loaded a few on my plate. Adelita came in again with the last two bowls. One of them contained an assortment of berries, the other grapefruit slices. My stomach became a hollow pit at the sight of the perfect pink halfmoons.

Fina was the only one who loved grapefruit.

Mom and Dad must have thought the exact same thing because their faces fell when Adelita set the bowl down.

“You can throw that away,” Mom said sharply.

She never talked to the staff like that, not even when she was stressed. Adelita jumped, then realization filled her face. By now, our staff would know about Fina. News like that spread like wildfire. My heart felt heavy at my sister’s disappearance. By now, she’d be in Las Vegas with the twins, in enemy territory. Would I ever get the chance to talk to her again? To see her again?

Adelita reached for the bowl, but I stopped her and pulled it over to me. “Don’t worry. I’m in the mood for grapefruit this morning.”

Adelita nodded slowly before she left the room, looking as shaken as I felt. Mom took a sip of coffee, her fingers white from their tight grip on the cup.

Dad looked back down to his newspaper, but not before giving me a small, grateful smile.

I speared a slice of grapefruit and slid it into my mouth. The bittersweet taste bloomed on my tongue, and I had to stop myself from grimacing. After a few more bites, my taste buds got used to the bitterness, and I finished the rest of the fruit. Mom briefly glanced up before she filled her cup with coffee again. I was the only one eating.

“Have you seen Samuel?” I asked eventually, unable to bear the crushing silence a second longer.

Mom shook her head. It seemed as if the small movement cost her too much energy already.

Dad put down his newspaper. “He was still sleeping the last time I checked.”

“He was pretty drunk—”

Dad shook his head. “He shouldn’t be drunk in front of you.”

I shrugged. I wasn’t a baby anymore. Since Fina’s kidnapping, I’d seen so many disturbing things that I wasn’t as easily shaken.