A Few DAY!s In Italy (DAY! Series Book 2.67)

Chapter 4 - A Mess, Success, And A Hesitant "Yes"

Colin had been staring at the ceiling for what felt like an eternity, but the clock mockingly informed him it had only been a couple of hours. LeighAnn was blissfully lost in dreamland, snoring away like a contented kitten. While the rest of the world was still tucked away in their cozy cocoons, he had been engaged in an epic battle with his eyelids since the ungodly hour of 4 AM. It was as if the sun had taken personal offense at his desire for a few more winks and decided to wage a full-on assault, peeking through the curtains.

His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, each one revolving around the sixteen names on his list. Sixteen people, some of whom he considered friends, while others were more like acquaintances. He'd known all of them for years. Repeated encounters over these years had turned these individuals into familiar faces. Yet, as Colin mulled over the list, he couldn't fathom the idea that any of these semi-respectable citizens could have been involved in the death of his dearly departed wife.

But as much as he wanted to believe in the inherent goodness of his social circle, the evidence was staring him right in the face, or rather, the balcony. Since the incriminating video had been placed at that very spot, it had to be someone with a backstage pass to their lives – a member of the DAY!s.

As Colin's mind rewound to the fateful day of Leyla's murder, he felt like he was trapped in a convoluted soap opera plot. Paxton and Chris had played the roles of the dastardly kidnappers, whisking her away into the woods. Thommy, ever the observant one, had caught wind of the shenanigans, but the rest of the cast remained blissfully unaware.

Not a single soul had witnessed the journey to chamber 9 or the following rendezvous with 'Big Bertha' – unless, of course, someone had a secret penchant for lurking in shadowy corners and eavesdropping on muffled screams. Yet, the burning question remained: how did this mysterious individual get wind of Leyla's murder?

Just as Colin was about to spiral down another rabbit hole of wild theories, the door creaked open, and a head peeked through the crack. It was none other than Henry. Upon realizing that his father was already wide awake and presumably deep in thought, the boy decided to seize the moment and sauntered into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Good morning," Colin greeted as he nodded towards the vacant spot next to him on the bed, silently inviting his son to join him in this early morning vigil.

Henry accepted the unspoken invitation and nestled himself comfortably on the bed, a pensive silence enveloping the room. Ever since he had mustered the courage to share his truth with Colin, a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, allowing him to blossom like a vibrant flower in spring. However, the topic of his sexuality had remained unspoken, a silent understanding between father and son. That was until the stillness was broken by a single word that carried the weight of a thousand unasked questions. "Dad?"

"Yes?" Colin waited patiently, the silence stretching between them like a taut rubber band, ready to snap at any moment. But Henry remained characteristically mute as if the words he longed to say were trapped behind an invisible barrier. Sensing his son's internal struggle, Colin took the lead, "Whatever is on your mind, kid, I love you. I am not angry with you, and you will always be my son. No matter what."

"There's someone I like."

"Ah."

"But..." Henry moistened his lips nervously. His gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. "I don't know... whether he... if he..."

"Which side he is on?" Colin asked. His son nodded. "How does he behave towards you? Are you flirting?"

"I don't know. He's... nice. And we talk. He plays basketball in the school team."