The Rossi Brothers I — Luciano

Mariana.

The whole place was dark, and there was something at the edge calling to me. I tried walking toward the bright light, but it felt like my feet were stuck to the ground.

I looked down and screamed in horror when I saw nothing but blood.

"Help me!"

I wanted to shout out, but my voice wouldn’t come. It was muffled by someone’s hand over my mouth. I fought, but nothing helped. No words came out, and slowly, my eyelids became heavy.

“Sleep now, little girl. Everything will be fine.” And then I was out.

---

“Mari, Mariana, you have to wake up.” I could feel someone tapping softly on my shoulder, but I couldn’t make out who it was.

I grumbled and tried to push the person away, but I couldn’t.

“Mariana!” My eyes snapped open, instantly connecting with her familiar gaze.

I frowned and slowly sat up. It wasn’t surprising to see Emilia in my room, but it was surprising to see her here at this hour. I checked the time and was amazed to find it was past midnight. What happened?

“What’s wrong?” I signed, still frowning.

What was going on? Why was she here and not in her room?

She stared at me and glanced at the door behind her. I followed her line of sight, expecting to see someone, but there was nobody there.

“What happened, Lia?” I signed again.

Emilia was my younger sister; she was just like me—beautiful, calm, and possessing every single trait of our parents, except I inherited my father's eyes. They were the only thing about him that I had.

“I…I overheard something,” she whispered, and my frown deepened.

“What did you hear?” Again, she glanced over her shoulder as if someone might barge through the door if she said anything.

“I—I overheard Father saying no one is ever going to find out what he has done. It felt like he was talking to someone, but when I spied on him, he was alone. He was talking to himself, Mari.” She sounded surprised, and I understood why.

“When?”

“Just now. I was coming to your room because I couldn’t sleep, then I overheard him. Do you think he’s alright? He has been drinking a lot lately.” Her voice was low.

I stared at her, seeing nothing but worry in her eyes. I understood why she was concerned; our father had been acting quite out of character this week. It felt like something had happened, but no matter how many times we asked, he wouldn’t tell us.

“Don’t worry about him, Lia. He’s fine. I believe he’s just stressed.” That was a lie.

I knew he wasn’t stressed, and whatever he was doing was because something had indeed happened.

“What if he doesn’t get better? What are we going to do then?” she asked, and I forced a smile.

I tapped the space beside me, and without needing to ask, she took the spot and lay down.

“Nothing will happen to Father, Lia. He’s just stressed; he will come around very soon.” I told her, yet she still looked worried, even though she nodded.

Lia looked at me, and before she could ask anything, I nodded in agreement.

“You can stay for the night.” She smiled, her worry easing slightly, and went under the comforter.

Her eyes closed, and soon, she fell asleep.

But now that she was asleep, I had time to process what she had just said. I believed Father was hiding something from us, and with all the security he had hired, I knew it was related to work, but he wouldn’t share anything with us. He hardly ever did.

I thought it might be because we were girls, which was why he wouldn’t want us to know anything.

I let out a sigh and lay on the bed, but the dream from earlier haunted me. I couldn’t decipher its meaning, yet the fear lingered. I could feel something was about to happen, even if I had no idea what it was.

I rubbed my forehead. I couldn’t sleep, especially after the dream I just had, and I glanced at Emilia before getting up from the bed. She didn’t stir as I did so. I slipped on my flip-flops before leaving my room. The entire house was quiet, but I could make my way downstairs without fear.

Entering the kitchen to get some water and maybe a snack since I couldn’t sleep, I stopped in my tracks when I saw someone standing in the middle of the kitchen. My heart skipped a beat at first, but I calmed when I saw it was my father.

His head was bent over the island, and he held a drink in his hand—alcohol, perhaps. I couldn’t tell. I walked toward the fridge quietly, not wanting to disturb him, but I wasn’t lucky.

“Cariño,” he called in a whisper. His words sounded slurred, and that was all I needed to know he was drunk.

I stared at my father with a frown. I had never seen him this intoxicated before. What was going on?

“Father,” I sighed, shifting uncomfortably beside the fridge.

“I…” he started but stopped himself.

“What is wrong, Father?” I asked, still holding the handle of the fridge.

He shook his head, and I bit my bottom lip. Why did I think he would open up to me?

“Things are about to get a bit rough, cariño, but I want you and your sister to bear with me. I’m—I’m trying my best to make everything right.” He explained everything, and although I had no idea what he was talking about, I just nodded along.

He doesn’t need to explain himself to me—he’s been doing an excellent job as a single father, putting in his best efforts for my sister and me.

“I’ll just have a drink and then head to bed, but…” he glanced at me.

“You can go back to bed; don’t worry about me,” he said, and once again, I nodded.

I opened the fridge, took out a bottle of water and a chocolate bar, and left the kitchen while my father continued to drink. I sat on one of the couches, staring into space, wondering what was happening. The dread in my stomach wouldn’t go away.