and my head feels light. I need Matt. He would talk me off the ledge, help me think clearly. But that’s not fair. I can’t use him to clean up my messes, like a handy stain-stick, and then toss him aside when my life is tidy.
A young couple approaches. I rush toward them.
“Excuse me,” I say, my voice shaking. “Mi scusate.”
The man raises his hand and they continue on, as if I’m a beggar trying to hustle them.
I travel down another narrow calle, over a bridge. Does this look familiar? I don’t know! Damn it!
A memory finds me. I’m in kindergarten. School got let out early because of a winter blizzard. Daria and I are walking home, each rubber-boot step sinking into the drifting snow. Even though she’s right beside me, I can barely see my sister through the blinding storm. Fear grips me. We’ll never find our way home. “Don’t lose me,” I call to her, the wind stinging my face.
My big sister takes my mittened hand in hers. She tells me she’ll never leave me. Suddenly, I’m safe.
I slip my fingers into the pocket of my purse, pausing to touch the Saint Christopher medallion before lifting my phone. It’s evening back home. I squint until the star icon comes into focus. I blindly tap the first contact saved under Favorites. She answers on the second ring.
“Emmie?”
My throat squeezes shut. “Dar,” I finally manage to croak.
“Are you home? Please say yes. Nonna is an absolute wreck.”
I close my eyes. At this moment, alone in this alley, I would give anything to be back in my safe little Emville. “I’m lost.”
“What’s going on? Where are you?” Her voice carries the same urgency it did when I called her on New Year’s Eve eleven years ago.
“I’m in Venice. Lucy and I got separated.”
She lets out a sigh. “You’re okay. You’ve got the hotel address, right? Call an Uber. Don’t try to find Lucy. Just get back to the hotel.”
“Okay,” I say. I don’t remind my sister there are no vehicles in Venice. She’d feel silly. “Thank you, Dar.”
“Is that it?”
I peer down the lonely narrow alley. “No. There’s one more thing.” I lean against a stucco building, as if to fortify myself. “What happened to us, Dar?”
Silence fills the air. I rub my aching throat. “Did I do something to hurt you? Something that caused you to hate me?”
“What are you talking about?”
She knows. I know she does.
I swallow hard and force the words from my lips. “I love you, Dar.”
It’s awkward, expressing the sentiment we haven’t spoken for years.
She waits a beat. “Yeah, well, you need to get home, like, presto.
I’ve never seen Nonna so worked up.”
Drunken sadness grips me. In the distance, I hear footsteps. I steal a glance behind me. The silhouette of a man takes shape, forty feet away.
“Oh, God. I have to go.”
I slip my phone into my pocket. My heart speeds and I scurry onward. What was I thinking, stopping in this deserted alley?
The steps grow louder on the cobblestones. I quicken my pace. The footsteps quicken, too.
Ahead, another bridge appears. Where the hell am I?
My heels clomp against the concrete bridge. Fear claws the back of my neck and I break into a trot. And still, the footsteps grow nearer. My feet are on fire. I’m going to be kidnapped, or murdered, or sold into sex slavery. Is this my punishment for betraying Nonna?
The footsteps finally overtake mine. A half moan, half cry pushes past my throat, and I fear I’m going to pass out. A tall man looms at my side.
“Posso aiutarLa?” he asks.
I can’t breathe. My legs are shaking. I’m about to collapse.
“Can I help you?” he repeats, this time in English. His features are clouded in the dim streetlight.
I fight to keep from hyperventilating. “Leave me … alone.
Please.”
“It is okay,” he says. “I am not going to hurt you.”
Finally, I turn to him. His dark eyes shine down on me like candles in a cave. “You are lost?”
I push back the threatening storm in my chest. “I—I’m trying to find the Ca’ Sagredo Hotel, on Campo Santa Sofia.”
He rubs his chin. “Sì. I know this hotel. Come with me.”
“No. Just tell me.”
“It is very complicated on foot. It is much easier to show you.”
“Never mind,” I say, and turn to leave.
“Wait.” He lifts his hands. “I can see that you do not trust me. You are wise to be cautious.” He points in the opposite direction. “Go that way. When you