26. Aria
26
ARIA
A year.
So much has changed.
I sit on the edge of my bed, absently running my fingers over the soft quilt. A letter from Andrew sits on the nightstand. He postponed the wedding. There was no explanation given, only a vague hint of “unforeseen circumstances” and “difficult decisions.” I can’t help but assume that the escalated tension in Cebrene between the Godfathers and the recent revelations about the Sisterhood have something to do with it. It’s as if everything is in a state of uneasy balance, and Andrew’s abrupt departure only adds to the mystery.
He left town for “business,” not even bothering to mention when he’d be back. Honestly , it’s a relief. And the thought of him potentially never returning almost gives me hope. The quiet is more welcome than I’d ever anticipated.
This past year has been a whirlwind. I haven’t seen or spoken to Dion in all this time. The emptiness inside me aches every day, and I miss him more than words can express. But I know staying apart is for the best, to protect my family and myself. And to protect him.
If only I could tell him why I had to end things between us, why it had to be this way.
Dion’s messaged me since the engagement party. And each time breaks my heart anew, but I can’t risk responding. I have this gnawing feeling that Andrew’s watching my every move. He probably has my phone tapped, waiting for any slip-up.
So , I keep my silence, no matter how much it hurts.
I’ve spent most of my time traveling between Cebrene and Antium with Gianis to be with Angelica . After her relationship with Evander fell apart, she needed all the support.
He kept so many truths hidden, betraying her trust in ways that left deep scars. To gather her thoughts and heal, Angelica moved back to Antium .
But the biggest revelation was about her father, Peter . Learning about his involvement in the Sisterhood was a shock. The secret society that kidnapped young girls, grooming them to be sold as prostitutes or child brides, and some, deemed unfit, even ending up as nuns to keep up the establishment’s appearance. It was unthinkable, horrifying.
Angelica asked me to help find more information, suspecting that our fathers were partners in this dark enterprise. So , I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment, when both my parents would be out.
With my heart pounding, I sneak through the house and into my father’s office. Immediately , I’m filled with a sense of unease.
The room is lit by a single lamp on the mahogany desk beside neatly stacked papers and a few framed photographs. The air is heavy with the scent of old leather and paper, mingling with a faint hint of my father’s cologne. It’s a smell that brings back memories of my childhood, but today, it feels oppressive. Last time I was here was just over a year ago, when I begged Baba to stop the wedding.
Shelves line the walls, filled with books that look like they haven’t been touched in years. The rich, burgundy area rug muffles my footsteps as I walk further inside, adding to the eerie silence.
I feel like an intruder, as if the walls themselves are watching me, ready to reveal my presence to my father at any moment. A cold sweat forms on my brow as I glance around, trying to steady my nerves. Every corner of this room holds a piece of my baba ’s life that I never fully understood, and today, I might uncover secrets that will change everything.
I approach the desk first, opening drawers with trembling hands. Papers rustle softly as I sift through them, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary. I move to the cabinets, pulling them open one by one, only to find more mundane office supplies and documents. The sense of dread grows with each passing second, and I have to force myself to keep going.
I search the library next, fingers tracing the spines of the books, hoping to find a hidden compartment or a clue. But it’s just endless volumes of law books and literature.
I search every nook and cranny. Nothing .
Just as I’m about to give up, my foot hits a loose floorboard. The sound it makes is different, hollow. My pulse quickens as I step on it again, testing it, and it gives slightly under my weight. I crouch down, hands shaking, and try to lift it. It doesn’t budge.
But then, for some reason, my eyes are drawn to a framed picture on the wall—a photograph of our family. I move toward it, feeling a strange mix of nostalgia and apprehension. When I pick up the frame, I discover a lever hidden behind it. My heart skips a beat as I pull it, and the sound of a hidden door sliding open fills the room. Holy shit.
The secret closet behind the wall is filled with boxes on various shelves, and I immediately catch sight of one labeled “ Sisterhood .” I pull it out and set it on the floor, my hands now steady, no longer trembling. Inside , I find a stack of files.
I scroll through them and find one with a boy’s name on it. Confusion ripples through me. What would a boy be doing there? I thought it was an all-girl school.
With a shaking breath, I pull out my phone and text Angelica .
My best friend calls me right away.
“ Hi , Ang . I don’t have much time. I’m in my baba’ s office, and I found something I think could be useful to you,” I whisper, barely able to get the words out for fear of being overheard.
My eyes dart around the room, checking the door to ensure it’s still closed.
“ Oh my God . Get out of there before you get caught.”
“ I will, but I can’t take these files with me. He’ll know someone was in here. I’ll take photos of everything, but have you ever heard of someone named Atlas ?”
“ No . Who is it?”
“ I don’t know, but apparently he was raised at the Sisterhood during the time you were there.”
“ It’s an all-girl institution. I doubt they had a boy enrolled there,” Angelica states, her confusion evident.
“ Well , there’s a full file on him, but some of the information has been blacked out—his birth parents, last name, and location of birth. The only personal detail I have is that, if he’s still alive, he’ll be twenty-eight years old now.”
As I’m scanning the contents of the file, I land on a photo of a little boy. A chill runs down my spine and I go silent. I feel like I’ve seen him before, but I can’t quite place where or when.
“ Aria , what’s wrong?”
“ Oh . Sorry , I just saw his picture and he is…strikingly familiar,” I murmur, unease in my tone.
“ Have you seen him before?”
“ I haven’t, but he looks like someone I know—he has the craziest eyes.”
“ We don’t have time to go over his appearance. You need to get out of there!” Angelica exclaims. She’s right. I need to leave before I’m caught.
“ I’ll send you a picture of his file in a few seconds,” I say, and we hang up.
My fingers linger on the photo for a moment before slipping it back into the folder. With one last glance at the box, I place it back on the shelf, making sure everything looks undisturbed. Then , I make my way to the door.
I slip out into the quiet hallway, my heart still racing as I walk away, the enormity of what I’ve found sinking in.
The discovery of the boy’s presence at the school adds another layer of mystery to this already tangled web. And my father’s involvement seems to go deeper than I expected.
I desperately hope that whatever I found is just a misunderstanding. That Baba is still a good person.
But the nagging doubt remains, making me wonder what my father has up his sleeve.