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Chapter 2

Author: Michelle
Once the ferry was underway, messages began filling my screen.

Damian had received confirmation from the guard.

[You actually got on the ferry. When you reach New York, stay at the terminal. Dad will send someone to bring you back.]

Mom followed:

[Selena is crying again. You’ve made your point, Viola. Come home.]

Dad’s message was shorter.

[Do not test me.]

Leon sent the last one.

[Get on the return ferry when you reach New York. We’ll discuss this tonight.]

They knew I had left, yet none of them believed I was truly leaving.

I switched my phone to Do Not Disturb and sat beside the window with one suitcase and a shoulder bag. For now, they were all I needed.

Leon, Damian, and my parents were no longer on my favorites list. I had removed them a month ago after asking Leon to have dinner with me.

He was helping Selena move paintings into her new gallery. When I offered to join them, he replied:

[We have enough people. You don’t need to come.]

I had stared at his name and wondered why I kept saving a place for someone who never saved one for me.

A draft slipped through the window frame. As I reached into my suitcase for my coat, I thought of the jacket Leon had wrapped around Selena that morning.

In fourteen years, he had never once done the same for me.

Selena had worn his jackets, sweaters, and suit coats so often that no one noticed anymore.

Everyone said her poor circulation made her sensitive to cold. Leon never explained. He simply noticed when she shivered.

Two winters ago, we attended a charity auction at the Falcone hotel. A snowstorm began while we were inside, and Dad sent our armored car away when Selena complained of a headache.

My coat was still inside it.

When the auction ended, I stood outside in a sleeveless gown. I asked Leon if I could borrow his overcoat until another car arrived.

“You’ll be inside the car in ten minutes,” he said. “Don’t make a scene.”

The car took twenty-three minutes.

After that night, I kept an extra coat in every vehicle I used. I had learned that no one else would remember to protect me from the cold.

My phone lit up with a message from an unfamiliar number.

[Viola, it’s Selena. You blocked my number, so I had to use someone else’s phone. Damian said you really got on the ferry. Please come back. Everyone is upset because of me, and I don’t want this trip ruined.]

I deleted the message.

Ten minutes later, Damian called from the Moretti security office.

“You need to answer Selena. She thinks this is her fault.”

“She has all of you there to reassure her.”

“Don’t be cruel, Viola. She’s already had another heart episode because you left.”

“Then call her cardiologist.”

His voice hardened. “When you reach New York, get on the return ferry. Dad is willing to forget this happened if you apologize.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Don’t force him to send someone after you.”

“I’m safe, Damian.”

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“I know.”

I ended the call, but my family continued sending messages. Mom told me to come back before I made things worse, while Dad warned that the island harbor belonged to the Morettis and that he could have the ferry turned around.

Leon’s message arrived last.

[Enough, Viola. Tell me where you are before I have someone trace your phone.]

I switched off location sharing.

It had always worked before. Whenever they forgot me, they offered dinner, jewelry chosen by an assistant, or another promise that next time would be different.

On my twenty-fifth birthday, I reserved a private room at one of our restaurants and reminded everyone a week in advance.

That afternoon, Selena learned that one of her paintings had been accepted into a charity exhibition.

By seven, my family was seated in the room I had booked, drinking the champagne I had selected and celebrating Selena.

No one mentioned my birthday.

Damian proposed a toast to the newest artist in the Moretti family. Dad promised to introduce her to a gallery owner in Milan, while Leon helped her choose a frame for the painting.

Halfway through dinner, Selena smiled at me.

“Thank you for arranging all this, Viola. You always think of everything.”

I lifted my glass.

“To Selena.”

Leon touched his glass to mine before turning back to her. It was the only time he looked at me all evening.

The ferry slowed as the Manhattan skyline emerged through the fog.

Mom sent another message, warning that Dad had frozen the family cards and ordering me to stop embarrassing them. I checked my banking app and found my private account untouched.

They had forgotten that not everything I owned belonged to them.

Leon called from an unknown number. I declined it, and his message appeared seconds later.

[You have ten minutes to answer me. If you reach New York without turning around, I’ll assume you’re deliberately humiliating both families.]

The ferry entered the terminal, and passengers began collecting their luggage.

One final message from Leon appeared.

[Go ahead and calm down. But you will be back tonight, Viola. Don’t make me come get you.]

I turned off my phone, took my suitcase, and walked onto the Manhattan pier.

They didn’t know I was on my way back to NYU to pack the rest of my life.
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