Chapter 4

One of Bianca’s friends had tagged her in a photo from the hospital. Bianca sat against her pillows, her bandaged wrist resting on top of the blanket.

The caption read:

Stop worrying about people who keep hurting you, B. You shouldn’t have to apologize for being loved.?

Luca liked it.

Then he left a comment.

She’s fine. The other one will come home when she gets tired of the act.

I watched him press Post.

He hadn’t believed me when I called. Now he was making sure no one else would, either.

“Luca,” Mom called from the living room. “Come help Bianca choose.”

He pocketed his phone and closed my bedroom door.

Inside, the shelves were bare, the drawers stood open, and the painting was gone.

I tried to stay in my room, but the pull came again. A moment later, I was beside the sofa.

Bianca had several costume options open on her tablet.

“The white one,” Luca said, sitting beside her.

“Really? You don’t think it’s too much?”

“It’s for Halloween. It’s supposed to be too much.”

Halloween was the next day. Dad had decided to throw a party to cheer Bianca up.

They spent twenty minutes discussing her dress. No one mentioned the deadline Dad had given me.

Eight o’clock passed.

The gates stayed closed.

The following evening, the house was full of guests, all gathered around Bianca.

Dad told her she was the prettiest angel he’d ever seen while Mom brought her a plate of her favorite desserts. Luca stayed beside her, taking the plate whenever she needed her uninjured hand.

“You’re all spoiling me,” Bianca said.

“You’ve had a fright,” Dad told her. “Let us.”

One of Dad’s captains’ wives glanced around. “Where’s Alicia?”

“Still sulking,” Luca said. “Don’t get me started.”

“I don’t know how long she plans to keep this up,” Mom said, rolling her eyes. “Every time we give her sister a little attention, she gets jealous.”

“You have nothing to feel guilty about,” one woman assured her. “Bianca needs you right now.”

Mom sighed. “If only both my girls were as sweet as Bianca. I’d have so much less to worry about.”

At the foot of the stairs, she stopped to check her phone.

Her message to me had been sent one hour earlier.

We expect you here tonight. Don’t embarrass this family in front of our guests.

Below it was another.

If you choose to stay away, don’t come to me next time you need something. You can take care of yourself.

She stared at the unanswered messages, then put her phone away.

Meanwhile,?Luca frowned and called me again.

But my phone had long since died.

He left a furious voice message: “If you don’t reply to me, then Bianca will be my only sister. You are no longer a Valenti.”

I hovered in the air and let out a bitter laugh.

I hadn't ignored him. I was dead.

I wondered if he would regret it when he realized he had refused my cry for help.

But it no longer mattered.

Music rose from the garden.

A photographer near the entrance lifted his camera.

“Shall we take a family photo?”

“Of course.” Mom beckoned Dad over and stood beside Bianca.

“Should we wait for your older daughter?” the photographer asked.

“No need,” Luca said. “Let her sulk. We’re done waiting for her.”

He put an arm around Bianca and drew her closer.

Luca’s phone rang just as the flash went off, capturing their smiling faces.

He answered. “Yes?”

“Mr. Valenti, this is Detective Harris. We believe the woman found dead in the art studio is your sister, Alicia Valenti.”

Luca’s smile froze.

“We need you to come in and identify the body.”