Reminiscing about the life I was about to leave behind, I stood by the window in a grand, luxurious living room and stared into the pouring rain. After years of darkness, I could see the light at the end of this pitch-black tunnel. It didn’t matter how I had gotten to this point. The only important thing was I had finally found a reason to stop being the victim and become a survivor.
The sight of a black car disrupted my thoughts and snapped me back into reality. Two men stepped out onto the driveway and walked to the front door during a raging storm. They wore basic, soaking wet suits and a transparent sense of urgency. I drew in a deep breath because I knew who they were. I knew why they were here.
Nobody requested my permission to allow the men inside the house. They were simply shown in. Before I could gather my composure, they stood right in the middle of the room, a few feet away from me. I didn't greet them or looked them in the eyes. Instead, I focused my gaze on the edge of their wet coats where droplets of water fell onto the dark hardwood floor. Alessandro would have been furious if he witnessed such disregard for his expensive furniture. But then again, Alessandro wasn't here so there was no reason for me to fuss over such petty things.
“Olivia Damiani?” one of them asked and I nodded, acknowledging them at last. “We are sorry to disturb you, but this matter requires a personal confrontation. I’m Detective MacFayden and this is my colleague—Detective Reeds. We are with the New York Police Department.”
My heart skipped a beat. Detective Reeds, who resembled a much older twin version of Detective MacFayden, shot me a glance.
“You might want to sit down, Mrs. Damiani,” he suggested, and arched his grey eyebrows when I failed to follow the simple demand.
“Thank you, but I’m fine like this.” I straightened my back and fixed my gaze on him. “I would like to know why you’re here.”
The two men exchanged quick glances and Detective MacFayden offered a silent nod to Detective Reeds.
“Very well,” the older man said in a detached, matter-of-fact tone. “We’re here to inform you that your husband has had an accident.”
Seconds passed, so many they might have formed a minute. The entire time I remained as unmoving as a statue, but I didn’t miss the odd look the two detectives shared. They probably assumed I had failed to hear the devastating piece of information.
“Mrs. Damiani...”
“An accident?” I asked, my voice ringing with deliberate confusion.
“It appears Mr. Damiani lost control over his car and ran it into a building.”
The news was delivered with disturbing finality. Detective MacFayden looked my way and continued staring as I swallowed hard and slowly lowered my body into the nearest chair.
Reeds mumbled something that sounded reassuring, but I didn't hear him. Trapped in a sudden sense of oblivious vertigo, it was difficult to focus now that this was actually happening.
“Is he...?” I murmured in a daze, collecting the courage that wasn't there. “Is he dead?”
“Like I've said,” Reeds interjected, his voice sounding a lot harsher, as though he struggled to get through to me, “fortunately, your husband is not dead, but his life is hanging by a thread.”
Not dead...For a moment, I stopped breathing. I didn't look up, but I knew they were watching me and assessing my every movement. In a state of sudden frenzy, I rubbed my sweaty palms together, unsuccessfully trying to control the shivering that overtook my body.
“Would you like a glass of water?” The deep voice of Detective MacFayden made me look up.
I shook my head and took a moment to compose myself.
“Where is he?” I asked in a quiet, resigned voice.
“Mr. Damiani is in a hospital. The doctors are still trying to save him,” one of them replied.
Suddenly, I could feel the blood drain from my face. I pressed my hands against my cold cheeks, letting the information sink in. The strongest urge to panic consumed me and wouldn't let go. Pull yourself together, Olivia! I had to calm down and think with a clear head. Maybe it wasn’t too late…maybe there was still hope.
“When can I see him?” It was the first question that came to mind; the only sensible thing to ask.
For the life of me, I couldn't ask about his chances or the gravity of his injuries. Deep down,