Complicated

Portia

I'm surprised about the things for Nathan but true to his word, bags of clothes were waiting for my approval at the next shop. Although if he truly is keeping him on the island, I'm sure he doesn't want him wearing the same clothes that are stained with Vincent and Gregory's blood, so this isn't exactly selfless of Callahan.

It's late afternoon by the time we get to Callahan's uncle's house, on the edge of the city. And house isn't quite the word. It's a mansion, a proper Italian mansion set well back from the beautiful stone pillars cradling ornate iron gates that open to let us in. The grounds are elegantly manicured and before a servant opens the front door, I can hear the sounds of someone playing piano inside.

Alec enters behind me. I take a moment to look around, take in the elegant, monied feel of the place. Our home in Mexico was always more cozy than elegant. We lived in that house, played in every room.

The sounds of children and the smells of cooking constant. This p