SUN
When Anzo finally shows up at breakfast after his ‘business’ trip, he doesn’t ask about my health, or offer to provide me any medical help in case something like that happens again.
Seeing him kind of on edge, as if priming for something, I decide to ask him for permission to go back to the dorm and see my dad one more time.
I just know something is coming.
Anzo’s eyes fix on me, and he hesitates for just a moment before nodding.
"All right. I’ll ask Matteo to arrange everything. It’ll do you good to get out of the fortress for a bit. Maybe then you’ll realize how much you’ve got to lose." He gives me a dark smile.
I ignore that. All I know is that I need to see my dad one last time, just to get it over with. Finalize that chapter.
In the next ten days… I need to be ready for whatever shit hits the fan then. And that means closing my ends. Saying my goodbyes.
Anzo hands me a phone; I haven’t held one in ages. I call my dad, and he picks up almost immediately, on the second ring.
I ask if he’d be willing to meet me at the dorm, and without digging into any details, he agrees on the spot.
It happens two days later, in the afternoon.
I return to the dorm with Matteo. He’s already reinstalled the cameras in the room and repeats the same warning he gave me the first time: every word I say is being recorded and watched, and may be punished.
My dad shows up right on time, his slim figure and long braid appearing in the doorway. Just like last time, I jump to my feet and wrap my arms around him, unusually affectionate for someone who’s never been the cuddly type.
"How are you, sweetheart? You haven’t been texting much lately. Your messages are always so short…"
I clear my throat. I’m not about to tell him Anzo’s been replying to his texts.
"I’ve just been in a weird place," I say quickly, hating that I have to lie to him again.
Our eyes meet, and his are searching through my soul.
So I hesitate, then add softly, trying to steer us into safer waters, "You know, sometimes I think this major might not be for me. I’m not sure this is what I want to do with my life, Dad."
After I say it, my eyes immediately avert and drift around the empty dorm room.
It’s an alien place, I don’t live here. It’s weird he hasn’t noticed how completely bare it is. Dust has settled on the windowsill.
Dad takes my hand and smiles gently.
"You know how your father and I have always felt about your choices. If it’s not for you, we’re not going to force you into this major. You had a taste of it over the summer. If it doesn’t feel right, we’ll figure something else out."
"Sometimes I think I don’t want to go to college at all," I mumble, lowering my head. "I just want to live for a while. Travel. See the world. Other countries, cultures, people, ways of thinking," I ramble. "I don’t know if the whole work-from-eight-to-three thing is really my path."
All of this is true, but I’m also saying it to plant a seed, so if I disappear, my dad will think I went off to find freedom, not that I was tortured to death by some mobster.
Maybe it’s better for him to have that good memory, that hope I’m out there somewhere, traveling, happy, just living my free life…
He listens closely, not interrupting, his turquoise eyes fixed on me.
"Sometimes I think about just vanishing, Dad… living off the grid. A simple life where time flows from morning to morning…"
"Sweetheart, the semester starts in just a week and a half. Think it over, and let us know. If you want, come home and rest a bit, take a moment for —"
"No, no, I’ve still got some things to take care of here. I just wanted to see you. I didn’t want to just show up at the house and crash with everyone…"
"Crash? Sun! Everyone would be thrilled to see you!"
I squeeze his hand tighter, it’s so much smaller than mine.
I look at it for a moment. Dad may look thirty-five, but he’s actually sixty, and maybe it shows most in his hands.
The hands that held me, fed me, hugged me.
Worn but gentle. Hands that never once hit me, never hurt me.
I lift his hand slowly and suddenly… I kiss it, full of respect.
"Thank you for everything, Dad. You’ve been the best dad anyone could ever ask for."
He quickly pulls his hand back, looking almost embarrassed.
"What are you saying, hon? Why are you talking like we’ll never see each other again? You’re starting to worry me…"
"No! I don’t want you to worry. I just wanted you to know how awesome you are."
"‘Awesome’—that might be the highest compliment a dad can get," he smiles warmly, then suddenly waves his hands like he remembered something.
"Oh! I almost forgot! I’ve got something for you! Snow asked me to give it to you."
"Snow?" I raise my eyebrow. Not that I have much in common with my eccentric freak of a brother.
"Yeah." Dad reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper. A classic paper letter… totally something Snow would do.
My jaw tightens. I’m afraid Matteo will think this is some kind of secret code between us. But I can’t help myself, I grab it, open it, and scan Snow’s tiny, neat handwriting. He really could write wedding invitations.
"Don’t be afraid to come home. Exactly ten days from now."
That’s all it says. I stare at it for a second, then quickly tuck the letter into my pocket without saying anything, my heart pounding.
"What was that?" Dad asks with a smile.
"He just wanted to cheer me up," I say, smiling back.
Dad hesitates, his nostrils flaring, then says, "Sweetheart, have you been drinking lately?"
I blush a little. "Yeah, two nights ago. Just a small party," I lie straight to his face.
Dad tilts his head. "Be careful with alcohol. It only feels like it makes things better, but it doesn’t solve anything. It just adds more problems."
Normally, if he said something like that, I’d roll my eyes and tell him not to preach. But right now, I’m weirdly grateful. I finally understand he’s always been on my side, even when he said things I didn’t want to hear. They were only for my own good. In the long run.
"You’re right, Dad. It’s stupid. I don’t know what got into me, but I’m not doing it again," I whisper, unsure if I should promise that.
"I don’t mean to nag. I’m just really worried about you. You’ve lost weight, you’re pale, and the sun’s been out all summer. You didn’t get a tan at all…"
"Oh, if only that were my biggest problems," I mumble, then hug him tightly one more time.
Five minutes after he leaves, first repeating his invitation a few more times, Matteo walks in and holds out his hand.
"Give me the letter," he growls.
I hand it over without a word.
He reads it and bursts out laughing. "Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. No way Anzo lets you go back home. Forget it, slut. You'll end up with us."
He smiles, almost smugly, and tucks the letter into his pocket.
"After what you've pulled off with Vito, guys feel a certain way about you."
A cold shiver runs over my back. So that's my fate?
Then Matteo turns around and says nothing more.
I follow him, trembling lightly, and we head back to the car that’s waiting to take us to the fortress.
But despite the horrible vision Matteo laid out for me, the entire drive back, one thought keeps spinning in my head.
Moon isn’t the only one with prophetic abilities, Snow has them too.
My weirdo of a brother. The one who’s always kept his distance from the rest of us. The one none of my brothers are close with. The one who barely ever speaks. Mysterious. Loner.
He’s the only person I can bring myself to believe, because unlike Moon, who, according to Ragnar, often got things wrong… Snow never has.
Is there a chance for me? What’s going to happen in ten days? Will it really be safe to go back, for me and for everyone else?
As we drive through the passageway between the outer and inner gardens, I immediately notice something’s off: several black, unmarked cars are lined up along the path. They weren’t here before, and their license plates are covered.
What does that mean? Is it part of Anzo’s plan? That hit he’s planning on the mysterious high-ranking ‘little fucker’?
I do some mental math. Could the assassination be happening around the 12th of September, right before school is supposed to start for me?
When I get out of the car, I look around in a vain attempt to spot Ragnar, but…
I don’t see him. He’s probably still in the hospital now, and I have no way of asking anyone about his condition.
Not the guards, and definitely not Eliano.
I already made things super weird when I talked to him about ‘the gardener’ and spider mites.
Matteo doesn’t escort me back to my room. I just walk out of the passageway, through the patio, and into the house. I head straight to my room.
Maybe I’ll see him tomorrow? Just outside the window.
He’s a purple alpha and they regenerate fast, right? He has to be back soon… for Summer, if not for me.
My heart squeezes painfully; I close my eyes and force myself to push through it.
But it’s hard, and very, very lonely.
I spot a single bottle of champagne left next to the bed after I asked the servant to bring me two bottles of alcohol two days ago. I just take it without thinking, open it, and take a sip.
Yeah, I remember what I said to my dad, but it’s just to numb myself a bit.
I also open the box Ennio sent me and take out the vape. Why not?
Armed like this, feeling slightly out of my body, I can face the next chapter of my life.
Then, despite knowing better, I stand by the damned window.
I freeze there, staring blankly.
Time passes.
Minutes. Then… hours.
Before I know it, it’s time for dinner.
Then I’m back at the window again.
And I stare. Once more.
For hours, I linger there, ignoring the pain in my legs and the discomfort in my spine.
Drinking, vaping.
Of course, I also admire the garden Ragnar took care of.
It’s all his work, after all: a perfect, modern garden, very much to my liking.
I smile and imagine a silly little vision, just for a second, that maybe one day we could work together.
Designing and caring for gardens. After traveling the world first, of course.
Settling down somewhere, opening our gardening business.
We could work side by side, coming up with ideas for how to make things that are of nature but also with a touch of aesthetic.
I’ve always loved the idea of doing something that’s so calming yet at the same time embodies beauty.
But it’s just a silly thought, right?
And Ragnar and I have no future together.
I can’t even explain why that hurts worse than the idea of what the end might look like for me.
He’s nobody. He doesn’t care about me.
But I still want to see him. Just once.
Even if it’s for a second.
Even if it’s the last time.
So I stay by the window.
No matter how many days pass…
I’ll stay there, waiting.
I just do.