Chapter 37
ENZO
I need to leave at some point, but I don’t want to.
Molly left for work this morning and I lay in her bed thinking of how I could get used to this life.
A life with Molly in it. I lay there for the longest time, and I don’t do that.
Usually I’m up and out of bed, dressed and ready for work.
I’m in the office by eight most days, but today, I didn’t crawl out of bed until much later.
I glance at my phone as I make breakfast. Another thing I’ve stopped doing. Checking my phone so frequently.
My world was in here, with Molly. I’m not ready to tell my brothers about us yet. Not because I’m not sure about us. I’m sure. But because I want to hold onto our secret a little longer.
Rio would be irritatingly nosey. Dex would be the same, and together they’d annoy the heck out of me. I don’t even want to tell Matteo yet, even though he’d be cool about it. I want to keep this to ourselves for now.
My phone shows a few missed calls from Rio and Father, and a few texts and emails from Matteo.
For a moment it feels like Venice all over again. I go to click on one of the links, when Matteo calls.
I pick up instantly.
“Hey.” He sounds controlled. A little too controlled.
I stop pouring my coffee. “What?”
“Have you checked the links I sent you?”
I set down my coffee. “I was just about to. What’s happened now? I have missed calls from Father.”
Matteo sighs at the other end and my gut hardens even more. “Don’t worry about him. You have bigger problems.”
I hold my breath. “What?”
“It’s about your friend, Molly.”
I sigh escapes my lips. “And?”
Matteo continues. “Other news has broken about her past.”
“What past?”
My stomach feels strange. As if spiders are crawling inside my belly.
“The press has gone crazy. They’ve dug up things … her father went to prison.”
“What?” I don’t understand what I’m hearing.
“Armed burglary. I dug a bit deeper into older news reports, and the guy’s an alcoholic. The original reports mention domestic disturbances.”
I set down my cup and grip the edge of the worktop.
Domestic disturbances? What the hell is a domestic disturbance?
“That … that can’t be Molly’s father.”
“Unfortunately it is. Sorry. I wish it were otherwise, but it’s the truth, Enzo.”
“Where is this blowing up?” My voice is shaky. Pieces of conversation float through my mind, the things Molly said, the things she didn’t.
“You still there?” Matteo asks.
I hang my head. This is the biggest shock so far. This is news I never saw coming. I was expecting more on the Knight family’s past.
Something about me. Maybe also Molly, because she’s been identified.
What I didn’t expect was this.
“Yes.”
“I'm tracking the major news sites and socials now. Chicago picked it up first, but it's spreading.”
I shake my head. Suddenly, I can’t think straight. This news counteracts everything Molly told me.
And what I said to her. What I assumed.
I envy your childhood. One mom, one dad. A regular family.
I press my thumb into the edge of the countertop until it hurts. Now I understand why tears welled up in her eyes. I remember her obsession with calm and safety. How good she is at looking after people. How little she asks for.
How happy she is.
I believed that Molly had the perfect childhood, the perfect family. Not because she lied, but because I assumed. I saw sunshine and believed she’d always lived in sunlight.
Turns out the truth was darker.
I close my eyes and grip the counter harder.
I remember the Jenga game. Asking her what she wanted to be when she was ten, and the way her expression changed before she told me she wanted to be an astronaut. I remember how much safety matters to her.
Her apartment. Her classroom. The children.
Her unbridled belief that a child could do whatever they wanted, if they believed in themselves enough.
Because little Molly didn’t have any of that.
Something sharp slices through my chest.
She said her father was kind and cuddly. That he looked out for them.
She wasn’t deceiving me. She was protecting herself.
And of all people, I understand that because I know what it feels like when a family secret is exposed and lives are destroyed because of it.
Except Molly didn't expose any of this.
Someone else did it to her.
I’m not horrified by where she came from.
I’m not embarrassed by her father.
I’m concerned about her.
I want her to be okay.
“It’s all over the internet,” Matteo continues. “It’s not just that. They’re now calling her a …” He pauses.
“What?”
“They’re calling her a gold digger.”
“What the hell?”
Molly is nothing like that. She doesn’t care about money, and she came up to me before she even knew what a Knight was.
In that instant I understand what this is. This is the media turning an innocent woman into whatever version of her will sell the most headlines. The focus has finally begun shifting away from Father and the old stories, and for that I should be grateful, but now it has pivoted to Molly.
“There’s something else.”
My stomach drops even further. “What now?”
“Mama’s here.”
I frown. “Here where?”
“In New York.”
He tells me that Rio and Raquel weren’t casually visiting Mama. They went because they were worried about her. More journalists were camped out outside her home.
I’ve done it again. I’ve made Mama’s life worse.
I slump against the countertop, heart hammering inside my chest. All the time Molly and I were hiding out here in our own little peaceful piece of paradise, the world outside was imploding.
Father is furious, and I can guess why.
Mama was being driven out of her home.
It all lands like a punch to the gut.
And Molly’s life has been exposed.
She left here smiling. She had no idea. And she was heading straight to school.
Straight into the lion’s den.