Chapter 39 #2
Next thing I know, daylight is pouring into my bedroom and the alarm is vibrating next to my bedside. I must have fallen asleep at some point. My face feels sticky and damp. Fingers glide across the sides of my head, finding hearing aids still in place, “OWWW.”
Rising from the puddle of drool on my pillow, I noticed my laptop screen is dark.
A notepad lies next to it… everything rushes back.
Dragging my sore, languid body from bed, I stumbled into the kitchen to find Andrea.
I had so much to share; I didn’t know where to begin.
Without coffee or even visiting the bathroom, I unloaded it on her.
This burden was too heavy to carry alone.
I needed my friend, even though she hadn't explained herself.
After I brought her up to speed on the microSD card, the evidence, and even the old photo I found, she seemed… off.
No rebuttals. No lectures about ‘going to work’ when she insisted I stayed in. Nothing. Did I break it? The only indicator she was still with me was the periodic chewing on her bottom lip.
Like a wind-up toy had finally been released, she stood from the table we both sat at. “I need to go.”
My mouth hangs open, unable to form words.
“Stay home,” she insists.
What? No… “We need to talk about how you know so—”
The door closes to our apartment, with my complicated roommate on the other side.
“Rude!” I call out, hoping she can hear me through the walls. Sure, I’ll just put a pin in the fact that my ‘con artist’ of an uncle may have been the driving force behind my brother’s death.
In line with me pulling my phone from the oversized hoodie pocket, a call comes in. “Take a Deep Breath,” fills the screen and for once I don’t ignore the call. I press the green button.
“Cindel dear, are you alright?!” my mother cries.
“Yeah…? I’m fine. What would make you—”
She interrupts, “your uncle called. We’re worried about you. He said you’re showing the same signs as Theo. Are you home? Is Andrea there with you? She didn’t answer…”
What? She called Andrea first, even though she’s worried about me?
“Oh god, this is all our fault! We should have never let you stay in that awful city. Your father and I are coming to you. Pack a bag, you’ll be returning to New York with us.”
I didn’t know if I wanted to scream or throw the phone across the room.
Now? Of all the times I’ve expressed to my uncle how much I miss Theo.
How I wish it was me and not him that died…
this very week is when he contacts my parents with concerns about my safety, right as I’m making progress? Right as I’m sure—
“Mom,” I rush out.
She continues ranting, all the while barking orders at my father in the background. “Mom!”
She finally recognizes that I’m, in fact, still on the phone.
“I’m fine,” I insist. “What did Uncle Nicholas say, exactly?” I can just make out heavy breaths on the other side of the phone. I’m apparently not the only one who needs to practice soothing techniques.
After long moments, she continues. “Well… he said you were acting odd. He’s very concerned. He… ummm.” The phone goes quiet.
“MOM,” I bark.
I hear a popping sound through the receiver, as if she’s letting out a long aggravated breath. “He said you’ve been drinking and sleeping around with strange men.”
I throw my head back and laugh. At least he’s finally telling the truth. Once I’m able to collect myself, I pivot the questioning toward my mother. “Do you believe everything he says?” Because I surely don’t. At least not anymore.
“Of course, sweetheart. He’s always had our family’s best interest at heart. Yes, he can seem somewhat blunt at times, but your uncle wants to protect what’s most important.”
“What’s most important—” I start, then stop.
Instantly, I see everything clearly. The facade he carefully put in place.
How he moves around like a snake in the grass; ensuring no one notices the deceit, before he gets what he feels he’s owed.
Jealousy is an ugly emotion. One that has the ability to eat away a person from the inside out.
My uncle…. Nicholas has likely been resentful throughout his entire life, regarding my father being welcomed into the family.
Although Charles wasn’t a full-blooded Lombardi, Nonna and Nonno chose my dad as the heir to their empire.
It’s always been about family! Just not in the way my parents think.
“Put dad on the phone!” I demand.
“Dear, your father is currently getting the luggage down from the attic, please just—” I don’t allow her to continue.
“Now mother!” The phone goes silent. I check to make sure the minutes are still counting, before my father finally speaks.
“Cinnabun?”
I blow out a slow breath. Fighting against the urge to retreat, because it’s the easier thing to do. If I’m wrong, what I’m about to say would be like opening Pandora's box. Things could never go back to the way they once were.
Good. I couldn’t let Nicholas go on, getting away with… murder.
“Dad.” I consider my next words before I start.
“Your brother has never seen you as a Lombardi.” The phone is silent, but he’s still with me so I continue.
“Nicholas has been running the family business. He’s monopolizing the whole industry.
Taking out competition, in an attempt to have some kind of strong hold over the city. Theo found out—”
My father's voice drops an octave, “Cindel.”
I’ve had enough of treading carefully. “You lied to me!”
Silence. Time painfully lingers, as unnerving quiet filters in.
“Is Andrea there?” he ultimately asks.
My steely resolve splinters ahead of tears filling my vision.
“Really?” my voice cracks. They want to know where she is?
I understand I’ll never be like Theo. The cultivated golden child, but have they replaced me?
Is Andrea the daughter I never was? I always suspected they liked her better.
My family is beyond twisted. No better than a storybook where the princess has been banished to a tower or cursed.
My father clears his throat, speaking more gently this time. “Cinnabun…”
No. I’m no damsel in distress. I will save myself this time. Pushing the red button, I end the call.
Splashing water on my face and pulling on some pants, I tuck the microSD card into the front pocket of my jeans.
I made the executive decision to head to Mail Haven today.
After bashing a couple of keys on the alarm panel, I eventually figured out how to arm the damned thing and slipped out the door.
Danger was still looming, and I thought it wise to at least utilize the confounded security system.
It’s odd really… how I've been brought to Mail Haven, twice in less than a month.
Does Nicholas have a mailbox there? Would I be able to convince the shopkeeper there to tell me anything? I am family, after all.
When I entered the store, I found the same gentleman as before. Meticulously combed back hair embroidered polo shirt, all the while working diligently to take care of each customer as if he’s being graded on his efficiency. Today is busier than last time.
I join the line, patiently scanning the room as he helps customers label and package items. I’m happy to see at least one of the customers in front of me has their box all taped up and ready to go.
After a while, I’ve taken inventory of every poster and packing option around me, I begin absently tracing the outline of the tiny drive in my pocket.
Even though there’s a lot of people in the store, it’s still fairly quiet.
As if a librarian is ready to hush anyone that speaks above a whisper.
I hear something… distant. Are those drums or maybe bass?
I pivot, glancing out the windowed front, half expecting a car to slowly be driving by, with their windows open and music blasting, but I see no such scene. There are no speakers in the mail store either. There’s definitely music... is it coming from me?
I dive into my bag to find the culprit buried at the bottom. Bingo!
Removing my hearing aid, I drop it into a pouch and pop the bustling device into my right ear.
The line moves up as I actively listen to the musical message.
A harmonious male voice joins the beat of drums, producing a rock and funk sound in conjunction with the electric guitar.
311 – “Don’t Stay Home” plays through and it takes everything in me not to bob my head along.
I can’t help that it’s a catchy song. I haven’t communicated with Dax since I read the microSD card.
Each song thus far has been cryptic yet laced with meaning.
The current message is pretty straight forward.
I peer over my shoulder, again scanning the street. Why does there always seem to be some form of danger awaiting me around every turn?
The line moves forward, bringing an elderly man to the counter who wants to mail socks to his grandkids, but has nothing but an address.
I rock onto the balls of my feet, as the music unsettles me. Why can’t I go home? Diving back into my bag, I search for my phone to text Dax.
“Next!” The small man behind the desk motions for me to move forward. Abandoning the task at hand I step closer to the counter.
“Yes. Hi, remember me?” I put on a sweet smile but he just looks back at me with a flat expression. Shit. I forgot what to ask.
As it is, my parents already think I’m spiraling out of control, meanwhile Dax is suggesting I avoid going home, and I’m fairly confident Nicholas would not appreciate anyone else seeing this. This is my only option.
“I’d like to mail something please.” His face remains neutral, aside from one eyebrow rising.
“Oh right.” I shove my hand in my pocket, realizing I have to actually produce what I’d like to be sent off.
“It’s quite small, but extremely important.
I need it to be discreet.” I lowered my voice on the last part.