Death Do Us Part

II.

Gia

The most delightful surprise awaited me when I got home... is what I would have said if I were in the mood for a sleepover with five of my cousins.
     I get why my mom thought that would be a good surprise for after my engagement party. I used to love having sleepovers with my cousins when I was younger. As one could probably guess based on tonight's events, I don't feel like hosting guests and being social.
So my room being crowded with girls in silky matching pajamas with blankets strewn about the space that was clean when I left, isn't exactly a welcome sight. I don't send them all home purely because I know they worked so hard to put this all together and I don't want their efforts to go to waste. It's not their fault I had a shitty night.
Part of me wishes they would have seen me in low spirits and insisted we reschedule the sleepover for another night, but they probably assumed I'd want company and moral support. I don't. I just want to go to bed, but instead I'm watching Legally Blonde for the hundredth time, nestled on the floor between Maribella and Livia, the two cousins I'm closest to.
Nora, Katalina, and Giovanna are all years younger than us, still in high school. They sit a few feet away, gossiping about people from their school. They aren't watching the movie, but neither am I.
"Why do you think he didn't show up?" Livia asks beside me. I wish she wouldn't have asked, but both her and Maribella were at my engagement party, so of course they're wondering. I'm wondering right along with them, though I wish I could just forget about the whole thing.
"I have no idea Liv, I don't even know the guy. I don't know why he does what he does."
"Jesus, I thought that was just a rumor," Mari tears her eyes from the screen. Legally Blonde is one of her favorites. She's the only one of us who is actually watching the movie. "Have you really never met him?"
     Everything has happened so fast that I hadn't even had time to fill my cousins in.
"Nope. Never even seen a picture of him."
"I hear he's hot," Livia offers.
"Like that even matters," Mari rolls her eyes, aiming an annoyed glance at Liv.
"It can't hurt," she raises a shoulder.
"It also can't be the basis of your entire relationship. All that I know about the man is that he's really handsome. Is there anything to him besides having a pretty face?"
"What else do you need?" The question doesn't come from one of the two cousins laying next to me. It comes from the oldest of the three younger girls, Giovanna.
"I don't know Giovanna... love maybe." She's shallow and young, so maybe to her, a pretty face is all that's needed for happy relationship. What else is there at that age?
"How often does that happen for girls like us, and I mean like real love like you see in the movies." Being as young as she is, she has a valid point.
"You don't stop looking for what you want just because it's rare," I counter, refusing to concede and accept that harsh truth.
     "I agree," Mari nods, rubbing a supportive thumb across the back of my hand. "You deserve the real thing Gigi. We all do," she shifts her glance to each of us.
     "I'll just settle for a man that doesn't beat me or cheat," Katalina shrugs, staring at her nails like this conversation is boring her. Mari, Livia and I exchange sad glances. These girls aren't even out of high school yet, but their hope for romance and passion is dead. I don't want my little cousins growing up leading unfulfilled lives, in lonely, loveless marriages, and I sure as hell don't want that for myself.
     I should have bolted when I had the chance, slipped out of Enzo's sight before we boarded the flight home and disappeared however I could. I'd prayed that the ominous feeling cloaking me was all in my head, just homecoming jitters, but my intuition proved to be stronger than I thought. I guess I should trust it more.
     "Maybe he's nice?" Nora, the quiet one of the bunch offers.
     "Nice?" Giovanna snorts. "You don't become to the underboss to the Don of New York by being nice."
     "He was born into that role though. Isn't the oldest son always picked?" Nora's small fingers pull at a thread on her blanket, eyes nervously scanning each of us for confirmation.
     "Almost always," Livia corrects. "Unless they're somehow unfit for the job."
     "What's your point?" Kat rolls her eyes.
     "It's like Tino," Nora lands on my brother as an example. "He will take over for uncle Davide if-" her hazel eyes flicker to me. "God forbid something should happen. To anyone who doesn't know him, Tino is terrifying. He has violent tendencies because he has to. He's ruthless because he couldn't get away with being soft, but he's not all bad. He cares about his family, he'd do anything to protect us. He's polite to women, and would never hurt them. He was also born into the role of underboss, but he's not a heartless monster."
     I weigh her take on the topic silently, agreeing with some of what she said, but nearly snorting when she described Tino as polite. Sure, he can be polite when the mood strikes him, when he's with female relatives, or when he's chatting up a woman he's interested in taking to bed.
     He's polite in social situations, when the best version of him needs to be put forward, but that's not who he is at his core. I've seen the best and the worst in my brother, and sadly the worst makes me wonder if I even know him at all. Most of the time, I can't see the spark in his eye he had when we were younger, and it scares me.
     Tino stood in the corner of my fathers office, a lifeless, emotionless statue, while I got news that rocked my world. He was likely there just in case I had an outburst or tried to run, which I'd seriously considered.
     He didn't try to comfort me or pick me up when I fell to my knees, crying and begging my dad to change his mind. Even as I lifted myself off of the ground, trying to grasp at the last shred of my dignity that remained, he wouldn't make eye contact with me while I left.
     How wrong I was to think he'd save me, or put a stop to the engagement, because he'd always been my protector when we were younger. He was one of the few men in my life left that I felt like I could trust, and that shattered in an instant.
     He has his good qualities, but I'm under no impression that Tino is a good man. I can't even trust or recognize the brother I grew up with, so I have little hope and low expectations for my relationship with Domenico, a literal stranger.
     I try not to listen to or retain any of the gossip or drama I hear when I'm home, but everyone has heard the name Domenico Zanotti, and you don't forget it. I have every reason to terrified of him if half his the things I've heard are true, and every reason to believe that he will rip me to pieces if I let him... so I won't.
     "Bad comparison," Kat rolls her eyes. "It doesn't matter how soft a made man is for his family. They are still both natural born killers, only if Tino is a barracuda, Domenico is a Great White Shark. Guarantee he's killed tons more people." My face pales, my next breath getting caught in my throat.
     I've always known the men in my family do bad things, illegal things to build our name, but I force myself not to think about it because it makes me sick to think of any one of them as a killer. If I left myself dwell on it, I'll think of the blood on their hands, and I'll despise them for it.
     "How many people do you think he's killed?" Giovanna leans into our circle, whispering like she's afraid to be caught talking about it.
     "A lot," Kat answers without missing a beat, the corners of her mouth twitching like she finds this both amusing and impressive. I find her disturbed.
     "Let's just stop talking about this and finish the movie," Mari eyes me warily, seeming to be the only one that's noticed I've stopped breathing.
     "What?" Kat's gaze flitters innocently from Mari to me. "It's not like you have anything to worry about as long as you're a good wife to him. Just do what he says, don't cheat, and I'm sure he probably won't hit you."
     "That's great Kat," Livi grimaces. I don't hear what she says next because my ears start ringing, and my nausea from earlier in the night returns full force.
     I'm doing my best to breath subtly and not draw attention to the panic attack building in my stomach, making my toes and fingertips numb. Just as my heart is settling back to its normal pace, there's a faint knock at my door.
    I rise on unsteady legs, my knees wobbling and my socked feet dragging across the carpet. I open the door expecting my mother to be checking on us, but instead find Luca, concern brimming in his reddened eyes.
     "I think you're going to want to come see something," he says, nodding his head over his shoulder.
     "What? What are you talking about?" His jaw shifts as his teeth grind nervously. He glances at our cousins behind me and shakes his head.
     "Just put on something warmer and come with me." Based on his unwillingness to share, whatever he wants me to see isn't going to make my night any better. I almost shut the door in his face, blocking any more bad news or energy from reaching me tonight, but instead I grab a hoody from the edge of my bed, slipping it on while I try to ignore the five pairs of curious eyes stuck on me.
     "Can we come?" Kat asks behind me.
     "Fuck no. All of you, stay here," Luca answers. The house is mostly dark now, save for a few dimmed lights left on to keep anyone going to the bathroom or getting a midnight snack from tripping to their death in this enormous house. Luca places his index fingers over his lips signaling for me to be quiet. We hear a door downstairs open, and he tucks himself against a wall across the hall, so I do the same.
     Luca peeks around the wall and over the upstairs railing to see who is shuffling through the foyer. He half turns to me and mouths the word Dad. He grabs  the sleeve of my hoody and pulls me down the hallway, away from the grand staircase and toward his room. We duck inside and he shuts the door behind us.
     "Luca what's going on?" I whisper, my heart beating so fast it hurts.
     "Can't explain. He's going out the front door. We can get to the balcony on the front of the house through here." He unlocks the latch of a window, opening it slowly to avoid making too much noise. "Let's go."
     "Luca what the f-" he ducks out of the window before I can say anything, straddling the window sill before he flattens against the side of the wall. I poke my head out, watching him slowly slide along a very narrow ledge outside of the window. If he so much as sneezed, he'd go flying back and fall into the hedges below us. His size twelve shoes are turned sideways because his feet wouldn't fit otherwise.
     "Be careful," I warn, as he wraps an arm around the edge of the balcony to hoist himself up.
     "Hurry up," he hisses. Shakily, and with not nearly as much stealth, I copy his path, sliding my fingertips along the wall like they will help me grip as I shuffle across the ledge. "Come here," he offers me his hand. "I'll pull you over."
     "I want security guarding every entrance of the house," I hear my dad growl. I freeze up at the sound of his voice. I want to retreat back to the safety of my room, but I have to know what Luca brought me out here to see.
     "Gigi come on," he urges. "Keep one foot on the ledge." He helps pull me over, securing a hand on the back of my hoody until my feet are planted firmly on the ground.
     I stay close behind him as he ducks behind a large potted tree blocking our view, but I can hear cars pulling into the driveway, and the sound of my fathers security detail adjusting and aiming their guns at something approaching.
     Luca crouches down and crawls between two pieces of an outdoor seating set on the front balcony. He lays on his stomach and pats the spot next to him. I lower myself beside him, and now we can see through the large gaps in the railing, but I'm worried that my father or someone else will look up and spot us.
     "Do you think they will see us?" I breath out.
     "Not if you don't draw attention to us," he says, silencing me with another finger to his lips. He points back down to the driveway where my father stands in a sleeping robe, pajamas, and loafers. His security surrounds him, guns drawn as four or five  cars pull up, the gate closing behind them.
     Even from up here, I can feel the tension as we wait for the unexpected guests to present themselves. A back door on one of the SUV's opens, and a figure that I can't see beyond the beam of the headlights steps out. He climbs out the way anyone would, one leg first, and upper body ducking under the doorframe to avoid hitting his head, but once he stands to his full height, something heavy drops in my stomach.
     No human being should be that tall. I shudder, and Luca glances at me out of the corner of his eye. The shadow rounds the back of the car, going around to open the other door.
     "Explain yourself!" My dad roars at the shadow. "I should have you killed for showing up on my property in the dead of night!" The shadow doesn't answer, but instead opens the door, heaving something obviously heavy out. The object grunts and I realize that it's a man.
     "You'd have family killed Davide? I thought this marriage was supposed to end the animosity between us?" The voice belonging to the shadow is impossibly deep, the kind of voice that hits the center of your chest and fills your whole stomach, the kind that demands fear and respect.
     His tone holds not even a hint of fear or doubt for his safety, despite the nearly twenty guns pointed at him, and the heavy gaze of my papa. Car doors begin opening as his own security files out and flank to his sides.
     "We're not family yet kid, not by a long shot, and after your repeat performance tonight, I'm not so sure I want you marrying my daughter anymore." The dread filling every cavity of my chest answered any lingering doubt, but I'd hoped I was wrong.
     The shadow is my fiancé, the very man who caused me so much anguish an embarrassment tonight. My hands tighten around the bars of the balcony rails, my nails digging into my palms as a wave of hot fury boils inside of me.
     "I told you I had a good reason didn't I? Would I lie to you?" He throws the man who he's dragging along the driveway at his feet, casting him in the glow of the bright headlights. The man squirms and struggles, screaming beneath the duct tape and cloth stuffed into his mouth. My stomach rolls as I take in his clothing; dirty, ripped, and soaked in blood. He's blindfolded and completely tied up, unable to stop the shadow from flipping him over on his back with a kick to the stomach.
     "What the hell's the matter with you? You show up to my home uninvited, at this fucking hour, and you bring this bullshit to my door? My family lives here! What the hell is this Domenico?"
     "Relax Padre," the shadow kneels before the writhing form at his feet, his face cast in the headlights. I see a flash of a stubbled jaw, and ink trailing out of a shirt collar before I shut my eyes. I don't know why I do it, but I can't bring myself to look at his face. I'm afraid doing so would make him real, where I've been able to pretend he doesn't really exist thus far. "I brought an early wedding present, from my family to yours."
     "Luca, I can't look. What is he doing," I whisper.
     "Shh. Open your eyes if you want to know," he says quietly, much more gifted in the art of whispering than I am.
     "Luca," I beg desperately, my voice squeaking. He rolls onto his side, clamping his hand over my mouth.
     "For fucks sake, he's taking off the blindfold." He's breathing heavily, right next to my ear. I squeeze my eyes shut extra tight, not willing to risk the urge to peek, just on the off chance I know who the bloodied man is. I'd probably puke if I saw a familiar face laying at Domenico's feet.
     "What are you talking about? Who's that?" I open my eyes to find my dad stepping forward to get a better look at the man.
     "It's your rat. The one who gave up the route last month that got five of your men killed." Domenico rips the duct tape from the bloodied man's face, which is followed by a loud scream of agony as the rag is torn from his mouth as well. Luca and I exchange a startled expression.
     I wasn't home when the attack happened, but my mother called me distraught to let me know one of my cousins, Leandro, was one of the casualties. I didn't know him well, but I always remember him being nice. I felt bad, regardless of how close we were.
     "Please! Please Davide help me! I never told anyone anything I swear! I would never betray your family! I would never betray you!" His screaming tapers off into desperate sobs. I don't think I've ever heard someone scream and cry like that I'm all my life. It makes my stomach twist uncomfortably, so see a grown man reduced to such hysterics. What must he have been through at the hands of the Zanotti's to be in the shape he's in.
     I don't recognize his face, even as Domenico kneels down next to him again, pulling him into a sitting position. He grips under his chin forcefully, making him look at my father and all of his men. My father must recognize him, because the look on his face is that if utter horror and betrayal.
     "Look familiar Davide? This man works for you, does he not?"
     "My god," I hear my papa say faintly, his hand brushing over his mouth.
     "Who is that?" I ask my brother, though I'm not sure why I thought his adolescent self would know any better than I would.
     "I don't know," he confirms my theory with an edge of annoyance to his tone. "Christ I shouldn't have brought you out here. You won't shut up," he huffs. "If we're caught I swear to god-"
     His threat is caught off by another of  tortured hollering from the captive.
     "It was Jasper Davide! I swear on my life it was Jasper. I would never-"
     "Japser is your brother Cliff! He's your brother, and he was one of the five men killed, along with my nephew, Leandro. Three of these five men had wives, children they were taken from too soon. Why would your brother give up a route he was working that night? That's suicide!" My father bellows.
     "I...I don't know!" He cries harder. "I swear I don't know! I think he was working with the Irish and something went south! Maybe he wanted to be killed before you found out and got your hands on him!"
     "But it wasn't Jaspers correspondence  to the Irish that we intercepted Cliff," Domenico cuts in, his voice so calm and collected that it's eerie. "It was yours," he growls, tightening his grip on Cliff's neck. He hollers louder, clawing at the wrists of the man who's holding his literal life in his hands. Domenico could snap his neck at any moment if he wanted to, and with little effort, I'm sure of it. He's too large not to possess super human strength capable of ending a life in seconds.
     The realization dawns on me, that if I didn't stand a change against the power and strength against a regular man, there's no way I'd survive the brutality of this man. He'd crush me like a bug under his sizable thumb.
     "What! I never contacted the Irish! I've never spoken to any of those bastards! He's lying!" Even from my high up position, I can see the way Domenico's hands tighten around Cliff's throat, making him howl like an injured animal before he lets out a strangled noise, all of his oxygen cut off by the stone hand.
     "I'm a lot of things asshole, but a liar isn't one of them. Surely you didn't think we would go through all of this trouble with no solid proof. I can play the voicemails, or would you like me to read the string of emails out loud? Lie one more time and I'll strangle you."
     My heart leaps in my chest, and I close my eyes again. So this is who I'm fated to marry. A man who has no qualms about killing other people with his bare hands. He's a monster.
     Cliff struggles some more, under a grasp that looks impossible to escape, whimpering and letting his desperate gaze flicker around all of the men he's probably worked amongst for years. I can see that he's praying one of them will step in and save him. Not a single soul makes a move to do so.
     Finally, he cracks, letting his body slump against Domenico's as tears stream down his face. He looks up to the sky, silently calling out for god as he slowly accepts his fate.
     "I'm sorry," he sputters on the tears streaming into his open mouth. "I'm so sorry Davide. I never intended for my relationship with the Irish to span past a few small favors. They approached me offering me a few tasks and I needed the extra money so-"
     "So you sold the people who always had your back down the river. No doubt to pay off your ridiculous gambling debt!" My dad roars, looking absolutely disgusted.
     "I'm sorry," he repeats, head slumping to the stone paved driveway. "I'm sorry Davide. I didn't think they would kill anyone. I thought they were just going to intercept the delivery and let everyone go when they were done but-"
     "But you put your trust in Irish scum and now the consequences have come back to bite you in the ass, Stupido!" My dad makes his way across the driveway toward them, suddenly unafraid of being in close proximity to Domenico and his men. He leans over with a grunt and picks Cliff up by the collar of his shirt. "Because of you, one of my own relatives is dead, along with your twin brother and three others! I've let that weight rest of my shoulders for the last month when the blame rested with you!"
     "M'sorry! I'm so sorry," Cliff begins to hyperventilate.
     "Sorry? You wouldn't begin to know sorry boy! I'm sorry that I promised your father I would always look after you and your brother, even though you're both half Irish bastards! Your brother proved to be solid, but you've always had a shifty quality about you that I thought I'd trained out of you! I blame myself for being so soft with you. I should have known your loyalties would always lie with your whore mothers people!"
     My dad lands a punch to the side of Cliff's face, effectively cutting off any response he was working up. The hit was surprisingly hard for someone of my fathers age and health. Luca winces beside me, sucking a small breath through is teeth as though he physically felt some of the blow. One punch didn't seem to satisfy my him, as he starts raining down on cliff, fist after violent fist.
     "If I might make a suggestion-" Domenico looks on at the brutality with a hand tucked under his chin, as if he's merely observing a teacher in the classroom for review. "Let us take it from here. My men and I have plenty of places to take him where he can be... dealt with accordingly," he finishes that sentence with a scheming  grin.
     My father rises to his full height, panting from his exertion just now. He seems to consider this, letting his wary eyes shift from Domenico to Cliff and back.
     "It's really no problem," Domenico shrugs. "It was actually our plan to get rid of him for you all along. I only brought him to you in the middle of the night so you could see the man who stabbed you in the back with your own two eyes, and to give you evidence that I wasn't lying for my reasoning in being unavailable this week. Tracking down the evidence to prove him guilty of his crimes took a lot of resources and time, so as I'm sure you can imagine, we are anxious to dole out a punishment for the inconvenience of it all."
     Each word from his lips sends me into a deeper spiral of fear. He speaks evenly, without even a hint of sympathy or conflict. How can he speak so casually about his plans to torture another human being, like it's no more serious than making plans for a dinner date or high tea.
     With a a slight nod of his head, my dad gives in. "Fine. Take him away. Do whatever you want to him, just make him pay." More screaming ensues as Cliff realizes that no one will give him the benefit of the doubt or take it easy on him tonight. All Domenico has to do is snap his fingers, and his security detail take care of the crying heap on the floor, picking him up like he weighs nothing and tossing him the back if one of the SUVs.
     "I can assure you we will," Domenico promises. "Before he takes his last breath, he will be truly sorry for what's he's done." My father eyes him cautiously, his disturbed expression revealing that even he is afraid of what Cliff will endure.
     "I want to thank you Domenico, as well as your family, for doing this for ours. I have to admit, that I didn't feel confident you were telling me the truth. I'm ashamed to say now, that I thought you were pulling a power play on us, but I apologize for my bold assumptions. This debt won't go unpaid. If you ever need something that my family and I can help with, just say the word."
     It's Domenico's turn to eye my father, his head tilting like he's considering how that offer could benefit him. He plucks a pack of cigarettes from his pockets and brings it to his lips.
Great... a smoker.
     "I appreciate that." With the flick of a zippo, he lights his cigarette, taking two deep drags before he continues. "Could I cash in on that favor tonight?"
     My fathers weight shifts from one foot to the other, and I wonder how vulnerable he feels standing in his pajamas, in front of this beast of a man. Another guarded look is shot in Domenico's direction, but he nods slowly. "I don't see why not, so long as the request is not impossible to accomplish at this late hour." I can see the exhaustion in my fathers eyes. He's ready to get back to bed.
     "I want to see her." My chest tightens, as does every muscle in my body.
     "Yes well," my father sucks a breath through his teeth. "I did say a reasonable request. I'm afraid my daughter is in bed already. Perhaps you should come by tomorrow and-"
     "We've got three days left Davide. Three days before she returns to school, and I've never spoken to her. Now I realize that's not your fault, but seeing as I went through all of this trouble, it wouldn't be too much to ask to wake her up, so that I can apologize to her myself. I wouldn't feel right if the explanation came from someone else."
     Papa let's out a frigid puff of air, pinching the bridge of his nose and massaging it like he does when a headache is coming on. "We have a circus going on here tomorrow preparing for Easter, so she'll need her rest. You get ten minutes, no more."
     "That's all I'll need," Domenico bows his head. My father makes a noise somewhere between a grunt and a scoff as he turns and begins to climb the stairs of the front porch.
     "Fuck!" Luca curses under his breath. He flails his lanky body around and begins crawling back behind the coverage of the potted trees lining the balcony. "Gigi let's go. We gotta get you back to your room."
     My heart is pounding, my lungs struggling to get the proper amount of air. I feel like I might pass out, and it's not just my rush to get back to my room, but the knowledge that I will finally be coming face to face with the man I've only ever heard about.
     Luca and I aren't near as cautious this time, crossing the ledge back to his room. We move quickly, and all I can think is that if I were to slip and fall back, maybe the plunge to the earth would take me out so I wouldn't have to face Domenico tonight. It's a morbid thought, but morbidity and low vibrations have plagued me all week.
     Luca ducks back into his window, holding out his hand to help me through. "How did you know they were coming?" I straighten my spine and follow him through his messy room, suddenly annoyed that every bedroom in this house is so large for no reason.
     "I didn't know. I was outside on the balcony having a smoke before bed when I heard the security team saying over the radios that the Zanotti's were here. I figured he came for you. If I'd known that was gonna happen I wouldn't have brought you out there." He pauses at his door, giving me a sympathetic glance, and it strikes me as odd that my fifteen year old brother feels the need to protect me from reality.
     Our eyes widen as we hear the echo of the alarm on the front door being punched in, and my dad shuffling through the foyer. I mouth a quick thank you to Luca before tiptoeing across the hall to my room, opening and shutting the door as silently as I can manage. I can already hear my dads heavy footsteps trudging up the stairs.
     I return to five pairs of eyes on me, just as they were when I left. The end credits are rolling on our movie, but none of them are watching.
     "What's going on?" Mari takes the liberty of being the first to ask. I pull my hoody off and throw in on the floor.
     "I'll explain tomorrow. Turn off the TV. Everyone pretend you're asleep." I flip the light off, muttering a quick apology when I accidentally kick Livia trying to get into bed. The TV is flipped off seconds before I see the light in the hallway go on, the shadow of my dads feet darkening the space under the doorway. I shift to face the wall as the door creaks open slowly.
     "Gigi," he whispers my name once, and then again a bit louder when I don't stir. I don't want to meet Domenico, especially not after the events of this week. My dad might forgive him, but I don't. Maybe if I just pretend to be in a deep sleep, papa will change his mind and make him come back tomorrow, though I can't see that going over well.
     "Gianna," a rough hand shakes my shoulder, and I suck in a deep breath, pretending to be roused from sleep.
     "What is it?"
     "I'm sorry to wake you cara mia." He brushes a thumb over the top of my head. "I need you to get dressed on and come downstairs please. Domenico is here to see you."
"Papa," I begin to protest, rubbing at my eyes.
"I know sweetheart. Im sorry. I'm not too happy about him showing up in the middle of the night either, but he does have a good reason. I wouldn't tell you he did if he didn't. Please, get dressed and come down. We will be in my office." He leaves me sitting up in bed, and every one of my nerve endings has come to life.
I feel the nervous energy buzzing in every corner of my body as I slip out of bed, pulling my hoody back on, and digging in my drawer for a pair of sweats to put on over my silk pajamas.
None of my cousins move an inch, most likely terrified they will get a talking to by my dad after he told us not to stay up too late. I close my bedroom door behind me, taking as deep of breaths as my lungs will allow. The heaviness hasn't left my chest, and it grows with each slow step I take down the staircase.
     Most of the lights in the house are off, but I see a strip of light illuminating the patch of hardwood floor under my father's office door. I hold my breath as I bring my hand up to knock.
     I hear the clearing of my father's throat before he calls for me to come in. Time feels like it slows as I turn the knob and push the door open.