The Mafia's Jewel (BWWM)

02

I left an anonymous tip to the police a few days ago after the incident at the pizzeria. It is the only way I can avenge Elio's death, without risking my life in the process. No matter how shady Elio seemed or the secrets that I learned about him, he was the one of the few locals here who showed me true kindness where others have turned their noses at me.

Sure, snitching may not be such a good idea, but what does it matter? Leone and his goons are low life losers with nothing else to do than intimidate people "Smaller" than them. Besides, I'm leaving for Chicago today so it's not like those lowlifes can touch me.

I zip my empty suitcase with a heavy heart, carefully packing away the belongings that have become so familiar to me during my time here in Sicily. It's a bittersweet task, knowing that soon I'll have to leave behind the life I've built for myself and return to the US.

I glance around my apartment, I can't help but feel a pang of sadness at the thought of leaving some things behind. The trinkets and souvenirs I've collected over the years hold so many memories, but I know that I can't take them all with me because my suitcase is small and I'll have to pay extra for the heavy stuff.

The sound of a knock at the door jolts me out of my thoughts, and I freeze in place, my heart skipping a beat. Who could be visiting me at this hour? With cautious steps, I make my way to the door and pull it open, my breath catching in my throat as I see a petite brown-skinned woman with black curly hair waiting on the other side.

"Amara!" I exclaim, a smile spreading across my face as I rush forward to embrace her.

I look at her face that is also twinkling with joy. Honestly, I feel happy seeing Amara right now. "What are you doing all the way here? I thought you were on a trip?"

"I was," she replies, her voice tinged with sadness, "but I had to come and see you one last time before you leave."

I almost want to cry but I say, "Don't make me cry with that sentimental shit. You act like we're not going to see each other again."

"That's what my other foreign friends said, now she doesn't even remember I exist."

"Do you really think I'm going to forget you? The girl who went her way to help a muddy and sweaty lost tourist."

Amara laughs. "I remember that day. I still don't know how you ended up in the countryside."

"I think I took the wrong bus or something."

"Well, look on the brightside, we wouldn't have met if that day never happened."

Amara and I settle into conversation, the worries of the day melt away, replaced by the ease of our friendship. We chat about our plans for the summer, exchanging ideas for trips and adventures, and reminiscing about our favorite memories together. But as the conversation flows, I can't shake the secret I'm carrying. My mind wanders to the events of the pizzeria still fresh in my mind. I want to tell Amara everything, but I know that now isn't the time. Besides, I'll be leaving the country tonight, so there's no point in burdening her with my troubles. Or putting her in further danger.

Before long, Amara glances at her watch and rises from her seat. "Well, my ride's here," she says with a smile. "Talk to you later?"

I nod, returning her smile. "Yeah, I'll text you when I board my flight."

We exchange a final embrace before she leaves, and I'm left alone in my apartment once again. The day is still young, and I have plenty of time to do other things, but all I want to do is stay in, lost in my thoughts.

Pulling out my phone, I see a notification from my airline, received over an hour ago. My heart sinks as I read the message – my flight has been canceled.