Chapter 43
SOFIA
Creuza de m? – Fabrizio De André
Talking with Ilias had become a nightly routine. It was the time in the day in which they were both relaxing. He was on a break from training, and she was getting ready for bed. Not all conversations ended in sexting, but when they did, she wasn’t mad about it.
As she packed her suitcase for Brazil, a playlist her father had sent to the family group played through her phone, gut-wrenching in its familiarity.
It was a mix of family memories: De André, Luigi Tenco, Gino Paoli.
Then the more upbeat ones, mom’s favorites tied to their Andalusian roots.
It was a bizarre medley no outsider would ever understand.
Creuza de m? right before A mi manera didn’t make sense to anyone.
But for her family, it meant everything.
When the music cut off, interrupted by an incoming call, she dove across the bed, digging through the sheets until she found her phone. She expected to see Ilias’ name lighting up the screen.
Instead, it was her sister.
Sofia’s heart dropped straight to the floor. That sinking feeling hit her every time someone from her family called at the wrong hour. It had started the day her father was admitted to the hospital for the first time, the day everything shifted just over a year ago. A feeling she’d learned to hate.
Her fingers fumbled as she answered.
“Pronto?”
“Sofi, ciao.” Gabriella’s voice was soft, too soft. It lacked the usual spark, that quick wit, the automatic sarcasm on her tongue.
“What’s going on?” Dread hit her chest like a weight. Because if the call had already scared her, her tone definitely confirmed that something was wrong. She sat on the edge of the bed, her half-packed suitcase forgotten. “Is Papà alright?”
Gabriella sighed, that kind of sigh you hear just before something breaks. “Mamá and Papà didn’t want me to tell you. They know you’re busy with your business and the deal with TerraVive…”
Her sister hesitating was new. Which meant it was bad. Really bad.
“But things aren’t great. The doctor told him… he has weeks. Maybe a month.”
Sofia closed her eyes. Her nose stung; lips pressed together as her world tilted on its axis.
“I know you wanted to know,” Gabriella’s voice cracked, “because I know you. And you wouldn’t live with yourself knowing you had a chance to say goodbye and weren’t warned.”
A tear slid down Sofia’s cheek.
“I was planning on going to Brazil, for the deal... and to see Ilias, but...” She swallowed. “It’s a no-brainer. I’ll find the first flight to Genova.”
“I’ll pick you up at the airport,” Gabriella replied without missing a beat. “I took the whole month off. I’m heading there with the twins.”
Sofia couldn’t answer. Her throat closed up with guilt, and the unbearable ache of impending loss. She felt a terrible daughter.
“Sofi, are you okay?” Gabriella asked, quieter now, worried.
“I will be,” Sofia rasped, tears streaming down her face. “Thank you for telling me. I would’ve been so angry if you hadn’t.”
“I know,” Gabriella replied gently. “Since it’s still early June, and not many people are on vacation yet, we’ll have the beaches mostly to ourselves. We can take the boat out, dive together. Mamá says Papà spends his afternoons looking at the sea and listening to whale songs.”
Sofia sniffled, a wet laugh escaping. “Blue Mind effect. I was just listening to his playlist.”
“Creuza de m? will always be my favorite,” Gabriella said. “It’s Papà, in one song.” There was homesickness in her voice.
“He’s not dead,” Sofia whispered, the words both a plea and a denial.
“We’re just... preparing for it,” Gabriella replied, her voice raw.
Sofia wiped her face. “Have you seen him recently?”
“A couple of weeks ago. But Mamá says he’s gotten worse.”
“Why hasn’t she told me?” Sofia asked, voice tinged with hurt. “I’m the eldest.”
“She didn’t want to pressure you into coming home. She knows you’ve been struggling.”
“I’m coming,” Sofia said. “I’ll check flights tonight. I’ll need to talk to Ilias, and send an email to Jamie.”
“Will he understand?”
“I think so.” She paused. “He lost his dad. I think if there’s someone that can understand me…us…it’s him.”
“I like him for you,” Gabriella added, out of nowhere.
Sofia blinked at the phone. “You never said that about Thomas.”
“Because I never liked him. And I was right.” A beat. “Do you think Jamie will be understanding of your time off? The lawyer in me wants to warn you that you are under a very big contract.”
“I–I think so. I mean, she accepted Ilias’ two-year break.
TerraVive is all about mental health and taking care of their athletes and creators.
I don’t think she could be too pissed. I mean, when she told me to go to Australia I did, and I was willing to go to Brazil, but if Papà is about to… I can’t leave him.”
“Let’s hope they are as human and understanding as they picture themselves.” By the sound of her sister’s voice, she wasn’t sure about it. But she couldn’t worry about Jamie either. She needed to warn Ilias, and then book a flight for Genova, and then maybe she could think about warning her.
“Are the twins asleep?”
“Snoring like two piglets.”
“Why isn’t Roberto coming with you?”
“I didn’t want him to.”
Gabriella always wanted Roberto around. He was practically her shadow—a lawyer from Turin, a couple of years older than her. Sofia didn’t have an opinion on him. He was nice, and that was all. But now, something was weird.
“Why?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re here. The twins could be listening.”
“Where are you now?”
“Almost at the twisty bit before the coast.”
“I hate that part,” Sofia muttered. “Always made me throw up.”
“And your niece, Francesca, is just like you. I’m praying she sleeps through it.”
“It wouldn’t be a first if she didn’t,” Sofia teased. “Mamá always said I did it in my sleep too.”
“Disgusting child,” Gabriella shot back.
Sofia smiled. It felt good to smile, even if it barely held together the crumbling dam behind her ribs.
“I’ll call Ilias. I’ll book the flight tonight.”
“I’ll tell Mamá and Papà you’re coming down because you had a break from work.”
“Alright. See you tomorrow.”
They hung up.
Creuza de m? restarted on her playlist. Before she could call Ilias, before she could even think about packing, she collapsed into the bed, curled into herself, hugged to a pillow, and sobbed until her throat ached.
It hadn’t happened in months. But this time, it wasn’t just about stress or pressure or heartbreak.
It was grief already blooming in her chest. She was losing her father, the man who had given her the ocean, who passed down his awe for the creatures below the surface, who had pushed her to be the scientist, the woman, she had become.
And all she could do now was go home, and say goodbye. Which still didn’t feel enough.