Aftermath

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

I follow Arthur inside, the foyer is huge, the ceiling is so high it could easily be mistaken for the very top of the house and I wonder how the ceiling being so high interferes with the second floor structure.

I'd never be allowed anywhere half as nice back home.

We're greeted by a tall young man. He has a sharp jawline and his eyes are piercingly dark, they're nothing like my mother's eyes but I can see my mother's features in his face such as his narrow nose. For that, I assume he must be my brother.

"I'm glad you've made it," He says. I can't discern the expression on his face, it looks like he's conflicted between a wide range of emotions, "We're pleased to have you back."

I don't know what kind of greeting I was expecting and I'm not sure if I'm grateful or offended that out of the 5 brothers and a father, only one brother could manage to greet me.

I scoff slightly at his statement and he narrows his eyes ever so slightly, "My apologies, is something amusing?"

"Nope. If you don't mind, can I sit my stuff down? I'm sure you could imagine the kind of week I've had." I'm almost certain he can hear the sarcasm in my voice, the fact that I don't believe he can imagine.

Once more, for maybe the 5th time in the past hour, the memory of mom and John break their way to the front of my mind and my hand tightens around my bookbag handle.

"You can leave now, Arthur. I'll be showing her to her room now. Thank you."

I readjust my bag on my shoulder and follow him up the grand staircase. He's at least 6'2 and being a few stairs behind him makes him seem overpoweringly tall.

My mind wanders back to mom and John. I try to intentionally blockade all memories of John, not wanting to relive the sight of his dead body anymore that I want to relive the years of abuse. Oddly enough, I didn't get any source of satisfaction in seeing him dead. It didn't make me feel good seeing the paramedics carry his body out.

But mom is dead. It's an odd feeling thinking about it because everyday for as long as I can remember, I've been scared to come home worried about what I already knew I'd have to face once arriving. But I don't have to walk into that anymore, because they're gone. Not temporarily, this is permanent.

I push the surface level thoughts away, knowing there's more that'll come to mind and I'd rather save those for the evening. I won't be sleeping anyway. We stop in front of a door and he turns to look at me.

"My name is Santino, you can call me Tino if you're inclined."

If I'm inclined?

Royalty-esque grammar aside, I try to do away with the anxious tick at having properly met my first brother.

I try my hardest to be polite, "Bianca," I introduce myself.

He frowns slightly, a tinge of hurt steals his expression, "I know who you are, Bianca. You're my little sister."

A boy emerges from one of the rooms but comes to a quick halt when he sees me. Great. Meeting 2 brothers while simply just trying to get a moment alone.

He has dark black hair and sharp grey eyes, like the cries of a thousand fallen souls.

I giggle at my own description.

His surprised expression seems out of place and I've just met the boy. He looks to be about 18 and it's almost evident he doesn't smile much.

"This is her?"

I scowl, "I'm standing right here."

He ignores my statement, "She looks nothing like dad, did you grab the wrong kid?"

"And who are you to say?" I challenge, feeling my frustration hit something of a peak.

"A cautious individual," He shoots back.

"Ah, so close! You're actually just an asshole," I say, faking cheer.

His scowl deepens, but before he can say anything, Santino cuts him off, "Go downstairs, Tiago. We'll speak of this when dad comes home."

"And who are you to tell me what to do?"

As they're arguing I slip into my room and shut the door.

"Bianca-"

I exhale, tuning them out before their voices have the chance to morph into the voice of my parents. It's what often happens when people yell, then I snap and things start to get out of hand.

I can't help but dread meeting the rest of my new family.

Santino's POV:

My father finally walks into the house half past 3. He's followed closely by 2 of my younger brothers Giovanni, and Marco. They left to go take care of some final business in preparation for Bianca staying with us.

My final brother, Lucas, is Tiago's twin and just a day prior to us getting the news about Bianca he left on a trip to the Poconos with his class. Tiago decided to stay back as usual, but Lucas would be returning sometime this week.

When father got the call about the death of Bianca's guardians, we were all excited to get her back. I'd had so much I wanted to say to her, but a lot of it relied on her wanting to get to know us back, and as far as I can tell, she doesn't want anything to do with us.

"Has she arrived?" My father asks.

"Yeah, we had an argument in the hall, she hasn't left her room since."

"You had an argument already? She just got here," Marco says curiously.

"Ask 'asshole' over here," I say, an icy hint to my voice.

They look over at Tiago and suddenly, nobody is surprised. "I had figured it'd have been best to take him with me, I should have," My father says.

Tiago has the temper of a wild lion, out of all of us that have attended the Private Academy, he has the most run-ins with the principal. Fights, arguments, snide remarks. It's the hotheadedness we've all had at some point, he just doesn't care to control it.

"Don't try to throw it on me. Didn't she laugh at you when you greeted her?"

I scowl. "Oh?" My father says, slightly surprised.

I sigh, "She doesn't seem very keen on this situation."

My father sets down his laptop bag by the door, rubbing at the slight stubble on his jaw, "Aye. Well, she can't avoid it forever. Call her down if you'd please," My father says and Marco heads up.

"Just let me do the talking, alright?" My father says, "I'd like to see how she is."

Out of all of us who were eager to meet her, our father was the most of all. We were her siblings before Meredith took her, but he was her father. She was his only daughter and after spending 1 year with the ball of joy Bianca was, the only girl in our family for a long time, Meredith took her in the blink of an eye.

My father doesn't speak of that night often, but when he does, the sadness is evident. He used to speak of it with a sort of longing toward both Bianca and Meredith, but as time progressed, he became bitter toward Meredith, the hatred he'd came to feel toward her was harsh.

It takes longer than makes sense for Marco to fetch Bianca. "What's taking them so long-?"

"What the hell?!" Marco shouts from upstairs.