Chapter 8

Elena Vitiello POV

The sky was a bruised shade of slate on the day of my discharge.

My arm was cradled in a sling, the bandages beneath my coat thick, itchy, and heavy against my healing skin.

I stepped through the sliding glass doors of the clinic, bracing myself against the damp chill.

I expected my father's driver.

Instead, a black SUV idled against the curb.

Luca and Matteo were leaning against it, casual as vultures.

Their hands were still bandaged from the fire.

"We're taking you home," Matteo said.

He swung the back door open, expecting compliance.

I didn't move.

"I have a ride."

"We sent him away," Luca said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Get in, Elena. Don't make a scene."

I looked around.

The rain was picking up, stinging my face.

I didn't have the energy to fight a war on the sidewalk.

Gritting my teeth, I got in.

The car smelled like expensive leather and silent guilt.

On the seat next to me sat a box of gourmet chocolates and a jar of La Mer burn cream.

Five hundred dollars of cream to fix a scar they had watched happen.

I pushed the items aside with my good hand.

Something crinkled in the crack of the seat.

I pulled it out.

It was a neon sticky note.

Sofia's Throne - Do not adjust seat settings :)

I crumpled the note into a tight ball and dropped it on the floor mat.

"We need to talk about school," Luca said, watching me closely in the rearview mirror. "We saw you haven't confirmed your enrollment at Chicago yet."

"I have plans," I said, staring out the rain-streaked window.

"Good," Matteo said. "Because we were thinking... maybe Sofia could room with you in the dorms? Just for the first semester. Until she feels safe."

I laughed.

I couldn't help it.

It bubbled up from my chest, painful, dark, and jagged.

"You want the girl who lit the match to sleep in my room?"

"It would show unity," Luca countered smoothly. "It would stop people from talking."

"Ask Sofia," I said. "Ask her where she thinks she belongs."

The car didn't head home. Instead, it pulled up to the prep school.

It was graduation ceremony day.

I was the Valedictorian.

I was supposed to give the opening speech.

"We have a surprise," Matteo said as the engine cut.

Numbly, I followed them into the auditorium.

The lights were dim, the air humming with anticipation.

A spotlight sliced through the darkness to hit the stage.

Standing at the podium, wearing the gold sash that I had earned, was Sofia.

She wasn't just wearing the sash. She was wearing my custom gown.

"Welcome, class of 2024!" she chirped into the microphone, her voice sickeningly sweet.

The crowd clapped politely.

I froze in the aisle, the breath knocked out of me.

"We pulled some strings," Luca whispered, leaning close to my ear. "She's had a hard week. With the scare at the docks... she needed a confidence boost. We knew you wouldn't mind giving up the speech. You hate public speaking anyway."

I didn't hate public speaking.

I was excellent at it.

I had practiced that speech for weeks in front of a mirror, perfecting every cadence.

"She looks happy," Matteo said, smiling proudly at the stage.

They had stripped me of my voice to give her a microphone.

I turned around.

"Where are you going?" Luca asked, grabbing my good arm.

"To the bathroom," I lied.

I walked out of the auditorium.

I walked past the bathroom.

I walked straight out the front doors and hailed a cab.

I didn't look back at the stage.

I didn't look back at them.