lie. - Michael Corleone

- Three



1945

The phone rang sharply, interrupting the eerie quietude that had settled over my apartment. I put out the cigarette I was smoking and got up off the small sofa. It had been a long day at the hospital that day; I had watched a kid's life disappear, and I couldn't help him. I quickly picked up, recognizing Sonny's voice on the other end.

"Y/n, it's Sonny. Something happened, and you need to get to the hospital. Now."

My heart raced as his urgency filled the airwaves. "What's going on?"

"Pop's been shot. You need to come, but be careful on your way over. And wear your uniform, just in case."

Without waiting for a response, he hung up, leaving me stunned with the gravity of the situation. I hurriedly changed into my nurse uniform, my mind racing with the possibilities of what awaited me at the hospital. I couldn't afford to lose another life today. Just before I could leave, the phone rang again, and I picked it up.

"Finally, someone who will answer Y/n, what's going on, is he okay?" Michael's voice came through the line. He sounded as distraught as I was when I spoke to Sonny.

"He's in the hospital, Michael. I'm going over now. When I get there, I'll call you, but I suggest you come back right now, Michael; it's serious." I told him hurriedly before abruptly hanging up the phone and sprinting to my car.

Upon my arrival, Sonny met me at the entrance, his eyes tired but determined.

"What happened? What's going on with everyone." I asked him, looking at his eyes – anger, when I saw it in his eyes, I knew he was dangerous. He was a loose fuse, I hated it when I saw that in him.

"Go straight into the room, Y/n. He needs you," he said, and I nodded, steeling myself for what lay ahead.

I nursed him for two days, dealing with the press, the detectives, and the constant visitors. I only saw Michael briefly, making sure to give him a long hug before I had to get back to work. One night, in particular, made me realize the tie that I began to have with this family.

On the third night, a friend of mine, Lucy, was working the night shift with me on the same floor. I had stepped away for a minute to get a new syringe, and on my way back, I spotted Lucy talking to someone in the Don's room. I immediately felt uneasy; I had called Sonny only five minutes earlier to tell them that the police had sent away any security.

As I got closer, my heart pounded faster for some reason when I saw Michael there. I began to walk towards the room as I tried to listen to their conversation.

"Do you know my father? Men are coming here to kill him, do you understand? Now help me, pleas- Y/n." Michael saw me, and I walked into the room. "Have you called someone?"

"When everyone was sent away, I called Tom immediately. They're on their way, but Michael, I don't like this. I've got a bad feeling." I told him, and he nodded at me, his face painting an expression I hadn't seen before.

"We need to move him, now." His instructions were clear, and he looked determined.

Lucy, Michael, and I transferred him to another room safely. Once we arrived, Michael began to talk to a man outside as Lucy and I attempted to transfer the Don's things into the room.

"Just lie here, pop. I'll take care of you now. I'm with you now." Michael spoke before kissing his hand. I swore I saw a tear go down Vito's eye. I watched over them, almost wanting to cry myself.

The hospital room fell into an uneasy stillness as Lucy's departure left Michael and me alone with the looming threat that seemed to seep through the walls. Michael's eyes, a mix of concern and determination, met mine, reflecting the shared understanding of our responsibilities in guarding Vito.