47. Ivy
47
IVY
In loving memory of a beloved brother and born leader.
It is with profound sadness that we announce the untimely passing of a man whose strength, loyalty, and unwavering dedication defined his life. A steadfast protector and a constant source of guidance, he was a figure whose presence will be deeply missed but whose legacy will endure.
His life was one of fierce devotion—to his siblings, those he held dear, and to the ideals he believed in.
He faced every challenge with resilience and an unyielding sense of purpose, leaving an indelible mark on all who were privileged to truly know him.
His absence leaves an irreplaceable void, but his memory remains a beacon of courage, sacrifice, and resilience. A private memorial service will be held at a later date to honor his life and celebrate the impact he had on so many.
I swallow against heartbreak and hand the roughly scribbled death notice back to Abri.
“Do you think it’s okay?” she asks.
I nod, my nose scrunched in restrained emotion. “You did a good job.” I don’t have the strength to offer her convincing praise. I’m too exhausted. Too caught up in my own head.
“Are you sure?” She scrutinizes me, and it has nothing to do with my opinion of her writing skills. She’s watched me like a hawk for days, always pestering, never leaving me alone. “Obviously, I need to put in more details. I’ll have to find out Lorenzo’s full name and add the specifics of his family before it goes to print.”
I keep nodding, not really invested as my gaze remains fixed on the only thing I currently care about. I’ve grown to handle the guilt of causing Lorenzo’s death. I can bear the responsibility of Gabriel and my brother’s actions, too. But when it comes to the sight of Salvatore still and lifeless in the hospital bed before me, nothing else matters.
Abri squeezes my shoulder. “Why don’t I get Remy and Olivia to take you back to their place so you can have a shower and get some rest?”
“No.” I keep circling my fingertips around Salvatore’s palm, desperate for a sign of consciousness. “I can’t leave him.”
It’s the least I can do given I’m to blame for his head trauma, collapsed lung, broken ribs, bullet wound, and dislocated shoulder.
“Don’t forget the doctor said you need to focus on healing, too. It’s important for?—”
“I know,” I whisper.
The problem is I can’t focus on anything but Salvatore as he straddles the precipice of life and death. The doctors aren’t sure if, or how, he’ll recover, and apparently holding out hope takes more mental space than normal function. It’s exhausting trying to remain positive.
I’ve lost a lot in life. I’ve endured more than most and thought I’d become all the stronger for it.
But if he slips away, any hope I had for my future will crumple. Because he’s the foundation. The anchor. The happiness. The love.
I need him. With everything in my heart and soul, I need Salvatore Costa.