Inferno(102)

‘Hey, here’s a funny thing,’ I interrupted. ‘I’m a Marino.’

‘I know you’re angry—’

‘And did you know,’ I continued, my voice rising, ‘there was a secret safe in the diner?’

My dad’s breathing quickened, and I could almost feel his panic thundering down the line. ‘Listen, I’ve applied for furlough. I’m going to try and get out so we can—’

‘And did you know,’ I said, my voice rising higher still, ‘that before your Marino family burnt down our livelihood, I found a bunch of Falcone trophies? A switchblade for every unmarked grave, I’d bet.’ I drowned out his answers, getting shriller and louder. ‘Did you know there was a ruby ring in there? Did you know that ring belongs to Felice Falcone’s missing wife? Did you know there’s a list of Falcone targets written in your handwriting? Did you know Angelo Falcone was actually murdered? And did you know that all my life you’ve been one huge fucking liar?’

His reply was lost in the air. I hurled the phone at the wall and it broke, falling to the floor in bits of plastic.

I slammed the ring down on my bedside table. I thought that would have made me feel better, but it didn’t.

But at least now he knew.

Now there were no more lies between us.





CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

THE UNWELCOME



Millie crept into my room half an hour later. Her eyes flicked to the broken phone, narrowing in understanding as she stepped over it. ‘So … that didn’t go well, then,’ she surmised.

‘You have no idea.’

She huffed a sigh and cocked her head, studying my pathetic, crumpled form. Eventually she said, ‘I think you should try and get out of bed.’

This was not the first time she had suggested this. It wasn’t even the tenth time.

I stared at the white flecks in my fingernails. ‘What’s the point?’

She sat down at the end of my bed. ‘Living, Soph. Living is the point.’

‘I am living,’ I mumbled.

‘No. You’re existing.’

I flicked my gaze up, but I couldn’t manage the half-smile I was going for. ‘What’s the difference?’

‘You know the difference,’ she said softly. She seemed so small and tired at the end of my bed. Her hoodie sleeves were pulled over her hands and her face was drawn. Guilt swelled inside me.

‘You don’t have to spend all your time here with me, Mil.’ I gestured around me – at my messy room, my messy life. ‘I know it’s depressing. I know I’m not exactly performing in the friend department. I haven’t been for a while.’

‘Soph,’ she chastised. ‘You know I’m not going anywhere. What kind of friend would I be then?’

‘The kind I’m being?’ I shrugged. ‘You shouldn’t have to be in the darkness with me.’

‘I think the whole point of being a good friend is being in the darkness. I’ll be your light, until you can be it yourself again. How about that?’

I mustered a smile, and for a moment it felt like my heart was swelling just a little. ‘You’re very good at this,’ I told her.

‘Well.’ She flashed me a grin. ‘I do like to overachieve at all the important things.’

I leant back against my pillow and let the silence fall around us. Millie shifted, examining me in the falling light, and I knew it was coming even before she said it – the inevitable. ‘So,’ she began, tracing circles on the duvet. ‘School starts back next week.’

She might as well have dropped a fresh heap of trash on my face. I grimaced. ‘I’d rather gouge my eyes out and eat them.’

‘It’s our senior year. It’ll be fun.’ There was little, if any, conviction in her reply.

I imagined the dull thud of my feet in the hallways, the thunderous clanging of lockers between classes, the mindless nattering filling the air, the soul-destroying existence of my life inside those walls. If I was a source of interest before, I’d be the main attraction now. ‘I’m not ready.’

Millie gripped my leg through the duvet. ‘You have to make yourself ready, Soph. You have to grit your teeth and do it, you know? It’s the last year. And then everything changes. You can do it. We both can.’

I didn’t answer her. The conversation had tired me out, and I didn’t feel like wading into the matter of school just then. After a while Millie accepted defeat and rolled off the end of my bed. I burrowed further in, feeling vaguely embarrassed by my petulance. She got up and crossed over to the doorway. I could feel her hovering, her fingers scratching lightly on the wood.