Little Angel

Chapter:44

Vivian Flammery.
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It's night in New York when we finally arrive here. It has been one month since we were away from here. It's December, the snow started to fall, and New York started to prepare for Christmas. People started to decorate their shops for Christmas.

We had to call Grace before we landed, and she and Marcus had to take Hannah to the mansion, even though she tried to protest and stay with us. But that poor thing still had a fever, and the cold air outside would only harm her and make things worse, but Daisy refused to leave my side, and her small body clung to me.

The snow outside, a silent, swirling white, mirrored the chaos inside my head. The long flight back from Italy had been a blur of anxiety and dread, but the storm within me raged on. The car hummed along the highway, the headlights slicing through the falling snow, illuminating the bleakness of the city. Gabriel, sitting beside me, his hand resting gently on my knee, gave it a reassuring squeeze. My eyes, though, remained fixed on the blurry scenery outside, my mind replaying the chilling message over and over again.

My heart had plummeted to the pit of my stomach. Molly, my best friend, my confidante, and the sister I never had, was in the hospital. And I wasn't there. Guilt gnawed at me, sharp and relentless. We had been in Italy, escaping the suffocating grip of New York, the dark world Gabriel inhabited, and the endless shadows of the life he'd built. We had thought we were safe for a while and that this temporary escape would be our haven. But the news had followed us-a cruel reminder that the world we were trying to leave behind was still out there, still claiming its due.

I don't have a good feeling about this, though. Moly may look carefree, but she has always been careful, and now suddenly this news, but I can only hope that it was a coincident and nothing else, that all of this is just an accident.

The soft glow of the city lights blurred into a kaleidoscope through the car window, a stark contrast to the biting wind that whipped around us. The snow, a silent blanket covering the city, held a stillness that felt heavy on my chest. The December air was thick with anticipation, a stark contrast to the weight of fear resting in my gut.

Gabriel's hand curled around my shoulders, making my body lean on his side and my head rest on his shoulder. His touch ground me, but it did little to dispel the storm raging in my mind. Daisy, nestled in my lap, was fast asleep, her small body warm against mine, a constant reminder of the fragile beauty of life. She was oblivious to the weight of the news that had ripped through our Italian haven-the news that had sent us hurtling back across the ocean.

"She'll be okay, Vivian," Gabriel's voice, soft and low, broke through my thoughts. He had said the same thing countless times by now. "We're here now. We'll take care of her."

I nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. He had said those exact words the moment we found out the news in the kitchen. He held me in his arms as the news sank in.

His words offered little comfort. The last time I talked to Moly, she was vibrant, her laughter echoing through my phone, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Now, the image of her lying helpless in a hospital bed, her usual boisterous spirit dimmed, filled me with a chilling fear.

''Vivian, Bellissima, my love, stop crying; you will get sick.'' He said this when one more tear fell on his shirt from my eyes.

He wipes the tears off my cheek. His face was so close, and his breath, a whisper against my skin, sent a shiver down my spine even in this situation. His eyes, filled with concern and love, bore into mine, the depth of his emotion taking my breath away.

''I am sorry,'' I said, my voice creaking as I sniffed.

''There's nothing to be sorry for, baby,'' he said, kissing my tears away. ''We are going to reach the hospital, and then you are going to see for yourself that she is fine.''