Dante's eyes closed, his head lowering. "Am I dreaming again?"
"Again? Have you been dreaming about me? That's kind of weird."
He lazily shrugged a shoulder, hearing her approach, every footstep making his chest ache more. "I watch you die sometimes in my sleep."
"Okay, that's not weird. That's morbid."
"Better than it happening while awake."
Dante took another swig of the liquor as he reopened his eyes. Shifting on the railing, he swung around, dropping his feet flat on the balcony to stand up. He swayed from the sudden head rush, his vision briefly blacking out.
As soon as it came back to him, he saw her. Dark hair, longer than he remembered. Bright, pale blue eyes. Fair skin, like porcelain. Pregnant.
Jesus fuck, she was pregnant…
Her black shirt stretched tight over her round stomach, like she'd shoved a basketball underneath. Dante blinked a few times, his gaze fixed on it, dumbfounded. A shuddering breath escaped him as he let go of the whiskey bottle, letting it drop.
CLUNK
"Genna," he whispered, his voice strained.
Going right for her, he yanked her into a hug, holding her tightly to his chest. One hand fisted the back of her shirt, the other grasping her hair, as he rested his cheek against the top of her head.
"Dante," she grumbled. "You're smothering me."
"Suck it up," he said. "I'm not letting go yet."
She didn't argue, hugging him back. Dante waited. For what, he didn't know. Waited for the moment to come to an end. Waited for the world to stop turning. Waited for life to be over.
Waited to wake the fuck up.
But nothing happened.
He stood there, unsteady, holding on to her, until she pulled from his grasp. The blurry image of her remained in front of him, her nose red and cheeks flushed pink, teeth chattering.
She was freezing.
But she was breathing.
She was standing right in front of him.
Tears filled her eyes, her voice cracking as she whispered, "I thought you were dead."
"I could say the same to you."
She hugged him again, smiling as she cried, those tears breaking loose. She burrowed into his shirt, wiping her face, wiping her nose. Her body shook, so Dante pulled her into the house and out of the cold.
"What happened to my stuff?" she asked right away, looking around the empty room as Dante shut the balcony doors.
"It's all gone."
"Why?"
"Someone crosses you, you erase them from your life."
"I, uh… wow." She spun in a circle. "Guess I pissed him off."
"He was already mad. He was mad for a long time. You just gave him a reason to show you his anger," Dante said. "But if it's any consolation, I discovered my shit's gone, too."
"Really? Yours? What did you do that was so wrong?"
"I wouldn't even know where to start."
"I've got all the time in the world to listen." Genna rubbed her hands over her swollen stomach. "Well, okay, I've got more like three weeks, tops, until this one barges in, but you know what I'm saying."
Less than a month. Where the hell had time gone? It had all passed in a blur, a succession of blinks, flashing images that propelled him through time. It still felt like just yesterday that he'd stood in that same room, damn near in that very spot, and stared at his sister as she clutched that plastic stick with two pink lines, the world as he knew it crashing down. Until that moment, nothing had been irreparable. Nothing had been permanent. Nothing had happened that they couldn't have come back from. He'd ignorantly believed that it would all work itself out, that she would've come to her senses, like the smart girl she was, and their father would've forgiven her, like the rational man he was, and they would've been a family again, like Galantes were supposed to be. But then she popped up pregnant and Dante made himself a murderer, swearing he'd clean up her mess when in reality all he did was make everything worse.
"I'm guessing, since you're here, you know about Dad."
"Yeah," she whispered. "I know he's dead."
Dead. The word felt strange. They'd all been dead a time or two, it seemed, but there was no coming back from death for Primo. Death, in Dante's life, never felt so permanent.
"Barsanti, too," Dante said.
"I heard," she said, toeing the carpet. "Feels weird."
"Them being dead?"
"Yeah." She made a face, cutting her eyes at him. "This is going to sound stupid…"
"What?"
"And it's probably insensitive, too," she continued. "Like, really insensitive. I'm talking worst person in the world kind of insensitive. Dad-level