“Where… the… heck… is it?” I muttered, scooting along the floor on my hands and knees. My skirt made a stretching sound and I froze, afraid of ripping the fabric.

Reaching down and pushing the skirt up and over my knees for better access, I continued on. I swept my palm underneath my bed, feeling along the floorboards. Something hard brushed my fingers and I seized hold then pulled out the laptop charger.

“Gotcha.” I shook my head at the charger. “You little devil. What the heck were you doing under the bed?”

Knocking the dust from my skirt, I stood. My heels, which I was getting incredibly good at walking in, smacked along the floor while I collected the last few objects I stopped by the apartment for.

It was strange being there after weeks away. It almost felt like I didn’t even live there anymore, like the apartment was one I’d stopped renting eons ago.

The few times I’d come into it since running off to Atlantic Beach I met memories of my last morning there. I saw Sophia, her eyes tired and her mouth twisted up. I’d hated her in that moment. Now I felt nothing but pain. She’d only wanted to take care of me. It wasn’t her fault that, in the end, she couldn’t protect me.

I did another check through the bedroom, seeing if there was anything else I needed. The pictures stuck alongside my vanity mirror caught my eye.

Taking a seat on the little plush stool, I studied the snapshots. It would be nice to take the one of Sophia, me, and our parents. It was from a day at Coney Island. Sophia and I were about seven, standing on the boardwalk, the wind whipping our hair all around our faces. On either side stood our parents, their hands on our shoulders. Dad looked pretty happy, but Mom tired.

Not that I blamed her. I remembered the little cooler she spent the morning packing, full of lunches she stayed up late the night before to make.

Though it wasn’t the best photo of her, it was testament to just how much she loved us.

I could frame it and put it up in my room at Angelo’s.

Wait. No. I couldn’t do that.

I shook my head, chastising myself. Three weeks spent at Angelo’s didn’t mean I lived there.

And had I so quickly forgotten about the arranged marriage? Though I knew I couldn’t go through with it, if I resisted I likely wouldn’t be able to stay at Angelo’s.

That would get him in massive trouble, right?

What else was I supposed to do? Flee the city?

I hadn’t really thought much about it, but if Angelo didn’t find a way to stop the marriage that seemed the only option.

My stomach twisted. I’d been doing everything I could to not think about this, but with my birthday looming so close I needed to start considering my options.

I could take a bus to another state, settle down in some random small town. Start waitressing at a dinner somewhere. Work on a farm. Tell everyone my name was Mandy and act like I was from Arkansas or some other random state. No one would find me.

I shut my eyes.

This is insane. I can’t leave New York.

Sophia… Angelo… I couldn’t leave them behind.

Maybe marrying Moretti would be the best option after all. Perhaps he would let me still see the people I cared for.

The front door opened, snapping me to attention.

“Hello?” Soph called.

I popped up from the stool and hurried across the room. “In here!”

Sophia stood near the front door, unwinding her thick, red scarf from around her neck. Two suitcases sat next to her.

She gave me a curious look. “Hey.”

I stopped in my bedroom doorway, just as unsure as she looked. “Hi.”

For a second we just gazed at each other.

“I’m sorry,” I finally said.

She sighed. “Me too. For everything. For keeping the truth from you, and then for fighting...”

“I understand why you did it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s all… It’s complex.”

“You’re telling me.”

“You did everything you did because you love me…thank you.”

Sophia’s bottom lip trembled like she was about to cry. “I do love you, Paige.”

“I love you too.”

I bridged the space between us and wrapped my arms around her. She hugged me tight then pulled back and looked down to study my outfit.

“Wow! Look at you. Those heels and that skirt. Hot as fuck!”

I grinned. “I guess you’re rubbing off on me.”

“It’s about time.”

“And I haven’t fallen all week.”

“Wow, look at you. You make a momma proud.”

Leaving her bags where they were, she headed for the kitchen. “I’m starving. That flight kicked my butt and the food on it was awful.”

I plunked down on the couch. The driver that picked me up from work had already left, since I told him I didn’t know how long I would be. I planned on taking a cab back to Angelo’s. Since he wouldn’t be home till some undetermined hour later in the night there was time to kill.

I needed to talk to my sister. I just had to figure out how to get the words out.

“Ew!” Sophia squealed.

My head swiveled towards the kitchen doorway. “What?”

“This milk is spoiled! Have you not gotten any more?”

“Um...”

She came to the doorway. “Or have you just been drinking bad milk and not even noticed?”

I took in a deep breath. “I haven’t been here, actually.”

Sophia’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you haven’t been here?”

“I’ve been staying at Angelo’s.”

Her eyes went from tiny slits to dinner plates at the speed of light.

I hurried on to explain. “After I left here that day something happened. I had an asthma attack, a really bad one. I passed out. I went to the hospital and even though I was technically okay, Angelo wanted me to stay with him so he could keep an eye on me.”

“For three weeks?”

“Did you not hear the part about me passing out?”

Her face softened a bit. “Yes, I did… But why the hell were you with Angelo that long? Paige, I told you to stay away from him.”

I stood, starting to feel a little heated myself. “This isn’t even the important part, Soph.”

Her arms crossed. “Really? Because it sounds super important. You’re really stirring the pot here.”

“I found something out. In Atlantic Beach.”

“Atlantic Beach? When were you there?”

“It’s where Angelo and I went for a couple days right after we left the apartment. Look.” I reached into my purse and retrieved my cell phone then hurried over to her.

She remained stoic, her arms folded and her eyes shooting daggers at me.

I scrolled through the picture gallery, passing photos of Angelo in Central Park, till I got to the one I looked for.

“I saw this on the mantel at the Salvatore’s place. Mom and Dad were friends with Angelo’s parents.”

Sophia stared at the phone I held. For a moment, nothing in her face changed, but then it grew red.

“I mean, I guess I should have guessed that,” I went on, “Since you and I knew their kids.”

Sophia still didn’t say anything.

“Soph?”

“I can’t believe you stayed with him this long,” she spat through a tightly clenched jaw.

I stared back at her. I’d seen my sister angry before, but something about the emotion seeping out of her said she was at a new level of rage.

“That’s not important! What’s important is this man.” I jabbed a finger at the young man standing near the edge of the frame.

“You know who he is?” she asked.

“Well...” I licked my lips, scared to death to repeat the story I knew I needed to.

She went on. “That’s Alfredo Moretti. Your future husband.”

My breath caught in my throat.

Was I having an asthma attack?

Or flat out dying?

“Mor… Moretti?” I stammered.

“Yes,” she tersely replied.

I took a step backwards, then a few more, not knowing where I was headed. My calves bumped into the back of the couch and I reached out to it for support.

“Angelo didn’t tell you this?”

I didn’t want to answer.

“Paige?”

“He told me the man was a family friend.”

Sophia snorted. “He was telling the truth about that much.”

“Why would he not tell me?” I blubbered, more asking myself than Sophia.

“Because he’s just trying to get what he can while he can get it.”

“No. He’s helping me. He’s working on finding a way to get me out of it.”

“He’s not,” Sophia sadly said. “Angelo knows the rules of the game. He knows this marriage has to be honored. There’s no backing out of it.”

“That’s not true. He promised me that...”

Sophia waved her hands frantically around. “Then he was lying! He’s just trying to get what he wants, Paige, while he can get it. That’s the kind of guy Angelo is. He’ll keep you around for fun until the day he has to turn you over. Do you see that now?”

I hated it, and I didn’t want to believe it, but yes. I did see things for what they really were.

Angelo could have just as easily told me the man in the picture was Moretti. And yet he hadn’t. Because he didn’t care.

“He’s not as innocent as he seems,” Sophia fiercely said. Then, in a softer voice, “I’m sorry.”

I nodded, unable to speak. Unable to do anything but stare at the floor.

And then something else hit. The bigger issue I’d been ignoring.

“He was there,” I gargled, finally looking at her. “Moretti. He was there.”

“There where?”

“The day Mom and Dad died. I saw him there.”

Sophia paled. “What are you talking about? I thought you didn’t remember anything about that day.”

“I thought I didn’t either...” My eyes filled with angry tears. “But it came back when I saw this photo. That’s why I had the asthma attack. I remembered it… I remembered it all.”

“Oh my God!” Sophia exclaimed. “You’re sure? You’re sure that guy,” she gestured at the phone in my hand, “was there?”

“I’m positive.”

“But why? Do you know why?”

Sophia’s hands curled into fists. “Does it matter? He had something to do with our parents’ murder. That’s all that’s important.”

“Do you think he had it done? Like, he ordered it?”

Her chin trembled. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

She marched past me.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To fix things. Don’t worry.” She grabbed her suitcases and looked back at me. “I’ll be back soon.”

I straightened up. “Soph! You can’t just leave.”

Her eyes glimmered with tears. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. I promise.”

Without another look at me, she hurried from the apartment.

I stared at the closed door, my knees trembling and my stomach heaving.

I didn’t know which to process first, Moretti’s involvement in my parents’ deaths or Angelo’s betrayal.

Holding onto the top of the couch, I made it to the front and then fell down onto the cushions.

“Oh my God,” I croaked, a dry sob escaping my chest.

Not knowing what to do or where to go, I sat there, frozen solid while the dark grew and pressed in around me.