Blood Morning

"MARGAUX..."

Alberta's voice didn't reach her ears when the now-familiar stab crushed her nerves again. Automatically, her hand found the back of her hips, trying to keep them from splitting in two. The drop of sweat that fell on her fist, resting on her lap, looked blurry. Her tummy was in pain—so much pain that she had to burst out of breath to stop herself from groaning.

"Are you alright?"

"Are you done talking?" She tightly closed her eyes. She saw double, and it was the last thing she needed.

"I said, I'm sorry."

She didn't reply. She understood what the old woman, kneeling and crying before her, was saying, but then it just wouldn't entirely register with her. More so when everything in her mind was Rome and him alone. All she remembered was that Alberta mentioned something like 'the Don's son and mother.' Or was it mother that she said?

Whatever it was, she felt her heart crunch painfully hearing it, but not half as much as the one she was trying to tolerate while sitting there