Yeah, this woman knew how to split the chest open, no doubt about it. But I was here to put my heart on the table as collateral anyway. “What makes you so certain that Scarlett’s going to fall hard for me? She might want to leave me when it’s time.”
Rarely did I ask a question. This time, I felt it was necessary. If she didn’t think Scarlett was going to do all of this, she wouldn’t be entertaining me now. Still, she had a reason, and I wanted her to admit it aloud.
The woman smiled. She spoke in Slovenian and then, realizing that I had none, turned to English. She did that from time to time. “I know my daughter. She is already in love with you. Your absence in her life is one of the reasons she refuses to dance.”
There it was. The reason why she had agreed—we both knew it. Whatever swayed Scarlett to cooperate, she would do. Even if it meant breaking her daughter’s heart in the long run.
Though she was right. Scarlett had too much potential to waste it. Not many people had the level of talent she had, nor the opportunities.
I stood. Pnina stood. Everett still had his back to us.
“You have my word,” she said, offering me her hand.
“You have mine,” I said, offering her mine. “La mia parola è buona quanto il mio sangue.”
Her shoulders stiffened at those words, that vow, before we shook. She knew what it meant and how serious it was. La mia parola è buona quanto il mio sangue—“My word is as good as my blood.”
Pnina might have cracked open my chest, but I had ripped my own heart out and placed it in an hourglass filled with rushing blood.
Chapter Three
1998 ~ Scarlett
Falling in love just happens. When you least expect it. When you are not looking for it. There is no rhyme or reason, and if there is, it is hidden away where all the mysteries of this life go. I can only hope it’s the same place my brother went. It feels like heaven.
I should’ve known that it would all begin on the most benign day of the week. Wednesday. Even Monday, with all its cursed glory, was a more talked about day than the third day of the week. The middle child, so to speak. Or my sister Charlotte, if Wednesday were evil.
To give this Wednesday a bit of flair, it started with a dare. I had never given in to peer pressure before, but Violet Castellanos could push all the right buttons. It was hard to tell if that was a good or bad thing, but despite the undecided outcome of the thought, I had accepted her dares as somewhat of a personal challenge. I wasn’t all that offended by actually losing. I just wanted an excuse to get out and feel the world.
Violet’s dares offered me that luxury. She was a seasoned veteran at reverse psychology, and me at pretending I didn’t know what she was up to.
Violet knew the truth. Her egging gave me an excuse to go out and experience the world. Therefore, our status always floated around best on the friend meter. I don’t think it was particularly anything Violet did or didn’t do. She recognized that too. It was me. Some days I didn’t care one way or another.
“It’ll be fun!” she practically yelled. “Look at you. You’re depressing. You’re pale and you have purple circles under your eyes. You’re beauty trapped in a tragic cage.” I shot her a look, and she swung both of her hands up. “Take a chill pill, Sandy,” she said in a goofy voice. “If fun doesn’t float your boat, what about a dare?” She wiggled her dark eyebrows at me. Her hair was blonde, her eyes blue, and her shimmering tan skin came straight off a beach in Greece. The combination was no less than gorgeous. “I dare you to go with me so I don’t get grounded. And what can be more rebellious than going to a party on Wednesday? Give me one example and you’re off the hook.”
I thought about it for a moment. “Grounded” was the least of her worries. Some of the guys she found attractive were jailbait, and not in the common use of the term. They were bait to the fishing officers.
“All right. I’ll go.”
Violet stopped walking next to me for a moment. People were switching classes, hustling to make it on time before their next