Semua Bab THE SINS OF DE LUCA: Bab 11 - Bab 19

ARIANA The hallway was colder than the dining room.I walked slowly, letting the click of my heels settle into a rhythm, letting my breath even out. The earpiece sat in my ear like a small warm stone. Nobody had spoken through it yet. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.The party had spilled out of the dining hall and into the main floor. Guests clustered near the bar, near the windows, near the fireplace that hadn't been lit. Staff moved between them with trays held high. Laughter rose and fell in waves. It sounded like money — that particular kind of laugh that only happens when everyone in the room already knows they've won something.I stayed near the wall. That's what I do. Stand where the light doesn't reach, watch the room, count the exits, learn the faces.That's when I saw him.He was sitting alone at a small table near the terrace doors. Not standing. Not mingling. Not holding a drink or a plate or a phone.He was reading a magazine.At a party. In this house. In this ro

JACK I walked up to her slowly.She was still smoothing her dress. Still wiping her face. Her hands weren't steady. She was trying to hide it, and failing, and I noticed every small movement she made because that's what I do. That's what I've always done.I stopped in front of her.She looked up at me.I cracked a smile.Not because anything was funny. Because she was standing there with her dress wrinkled and her lipstick smudged and her eyes still wet, trying to pretend she hadn't just been crying into another man's chest. Trying to pretend she was fine. Trying to pretend she was someone else.It was almost impressive.Then I turned my eyes to D.D.He hadn't moved. He was standing exactly where he'd been when I walked in — hands loose at his sides, shoulders easy, watching me the way he watched everyone. Patient. Unbothered.Neither of us said anything for a moment."Someone was in that room," I said.D.D. nodded once."Someone was.""And?""And he's gone."I looked past them at th

ARIANA The wine had dried stiff against my dress by the time I came back down.I'd changed into something plain — one of the dresses Angela had left in the closet, nothing anyone would look at twice. I'd wiped my face, fixed my hair, and told myself I was only going back down to find Jack. To tell him what I'd seen. To tell him about the man in the corridor, the man in the dark room, the man whose face I still couldn't shake.That was the plan.Then I stepped into the hall.Most of the guests were gone. Staff were clearing glasses off the long table, folding napkins, carrying trays back toward the kitchen. The music had stopped. The chandeliers were still on, but dimmer now, like the house itself was getting ready for bed.Skylark was still there.She stood near the head of the table, one hand resting on the back of Romano's chair, the other holding a fresh glass. She wasn't looking at anyone in particular. She was just — waiting. The way she always waited.I slowed.Jack was walking

ARIANA The guest room was small and plain, tucked at the end of the second-floor corridor, far enough from the family wing that I couldn't hear anything through the walls.Good.I sat on the edge of the bed with my knees pulled up and my back against the headboard, wearing one of the plain dresses Angela had left in the closet. The wine-stained one was on the floor in a heap. I hadn't bothered to fold it. I hadn't bothered to do anything except sit there and try to stop shaking.The phone rang.I looked at it for a second before I picked up. St. Vincent's. I knew the number by heart."Hello?""Ariana?" It was Maria, the night nurse. "I'm sorry to call so late.""Is she okay?""She's fine. She's awake. She wanted to hear your voice."I closed my eyes. "Why is she awake at this hour? She should be sleeping. Her medication—"Maria chuckled. Soft. Warm. The way she always did when I started spiraling."Relax, mija. Let me put her on.""Maria, it's almost midnight—""Just hold on."The li

ARIANA He was heavier than he looked.I got his arm over my shoulder and pulled him up inch by inch, and he let me, which was worse than if he'd fought me. His head hung forward. His feet dragged. Every few steps he'd sag and I'd have to brace us both against the wall and wait for him to find his legs again.She promised she'd be back.The words sat in my head and wouldn't leave.I kept walking. Kept dragging him. Kept my eyes on the corridor ahead.And then I wasn't in the corridor anymore.I was seven years old, standing on the front steps of a house that doesn't exist anymore. It was morning. My father had his jacket over one arm and his keys in his hand, and he was crouched down in front of me so we were the same height.Papa, where are you going?Work, sweetheart.When are you coming back?He'd smiled. He always smiled. That's the part I remember most — that smile. He had no idea it was the last one.I'll be back before you know it. Wait for me.Promise?I promise.I never saw h