Welcome!

Now, I have 2 questions for you all:

1) Would you like me to post the links to the chapters on tumblr?

DISCLAIMER: I am not a big fan of shipping. I like to read about a character in love, but not necessarily with a character from their own show. Which is why I read a lot of x readers even though I don’t envision myself with the character. But I’m an open minded person. I like most genres.

I won’t read anything involving incest or dead dove: do not eat.

Bruno froze. Alma’s lips were on his face. And she was millimeters away from his mouth. She pulled away from him but only left a small space between their faces. Time slowed down. The clock’s ticking, the fridge’s vibrations, and the city sounds from the opened balcony were drowned out by Alma’s breathing. Her breath reeked of alcohol. Her eyes were red and puffy. Mascara streaked down her face, and her hair was a mess. But none of that mattered to Bruno. Alma’s face was still bewitchingly gorgeous. Temptation jabbed him. It tried to make him close the gap between him and Alma’s glossy lips. While Bruno remained locked in place, Alma plunged for his mouth. He almost let it happen. Almost.

Bruno gripped Alma’s shoulders and pushed her away from him. The expression on Alma’s face pained him. She looked as though he had killed one of her siblings. Her eyes welled up with tears. Her lips quivered. She hiccupped as she spoke. “Did I do something wrong? Oh God I did. I’m so sorry Bruno. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Bruno stretched his arms out in an attempt to hug Alma, but she held up her hand. Alma had her other hand over her mouth. She wobbled to the bathroom and retched into the toilet. Bruno rubbed Alma’s back as she released the contents of her stomach. When Alma finished, she sat against the bathtub with her legs sprawled. Most of her makeup smeared. Snot poured out of her nose. Pinkish vomit dribbled down her chin. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her breathing calmed. Bruno shook her leg. “Alma.” He repeated her name softly. She did not answer. Alma had passed out.

Bruno sighed. He pulled off her shoes and grabbed the two white, small bathroom towels hooked on the wall. He turned on the sink and soaked the towels in water. He picked Alma up and took her to her bedroom. Her room was a mess. Dresses and heels were littered on the floor. Eye shadows, lipsticks and other makeup items Bruno didn’t recognize were spread all over the dresser. Unfinished drawings and pencils were scattered across her desk. The finished sketches and bright, yellow Christmas that hung on the walls were the only organized aspects of the room.

Bruno laid Alma on the bed. He moved aside her Disney character plushies to give her more room to sleep. Bruno used one of the towels to wipe away the vomit and snot while the other was used to remove Alma’s makeup. He left to put the towels on top of the washing machine. He went to the kitchen to fill a cup with water and to retrieve the painkillers in the cabinet. Bruno returned to Alma's side and set the pills and water on the table next to the bed.

He was still processing what happened. Alma tried to kiss him. This meant that Alma harbored feelings for him. Bruno’s heart gave a little jolt. He reached to stroke her forehead, but he retracted his hand. He did not need to entertain the idea of him being with Alma. He was not supposed to get any closer to her. He beat into his head that the kiss was a result of her drunken state. If Alma were sober, she would’ve never attempted to kiss him. No matter how much it hurt, this was the truth he forced himself to accept.

Bruno’s ears perked at a cellphone’s ringing. The sound came from the living room. Bruno walked towards the couch and saw that the ringing belonged to Alma’s phone. The caller ID read Stupid Head. Bruno answered the call.

“Alma where are you? Are you okay? Tell me where you are so I can come get you?” Angelo’s voice was panicked.

“Don’t worry Angelo. Alma’s fine.” Bruno said.

“She called you to get her? Oh, that’s good. I’m glad she’s okay.”

Bruno thought he heard a hint of sadness in Angelo’s voice, but he continued talking before Bruno could question it.

“How’s she holding up?” Angelo asked.

“She’s passed out drunk. What happened?”

“I’m not really sure. We were dancing and everything was fine. But then she started staring at this random dude in the corner. He was doing drugs but that’s not anything new at a party. She went into the kitchen after that. Not long after, she runs out of the kitchen with some jackass attempting to follow after.”

Bruno’s voice grew angry. “Did you get a good look at the guy’s face?”

“Don’t worry about it. I already handled him. Anyway, I’ll call Alma in the morning. Thanks for looking out for her.” Angelo responded.

“Any time.” After Bruno hung up, something clicked in his head. Alma stared at some guy doing drugs. During her rambling, she mentioned the color fairy blue. The drug that guy took had to be Fairy Magic. Polpo’s assumption was right-that mysterious group are selling drugs on Passione’s turf.

Bruno dialed Abbacchio’s number.

The phone rang three times before Abbacchio picked up. “What’s up Buccellati?”

“I need to see you and Fugo tomorrow. I have a lead on Fairy Magic. Make sure to deliver this message to Fugo.”

“Understood.” Abbachio said before he ended the call.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming! Don’t beat my door down!” Alma yelled. She rushed to the front of her apartment. She swung the door open, prepared to scold the person who beat against her door like a madman. Upon seeing the visitor, Alma lost the urge to unleash her anger. Sophia stood in front of her with two bulky bags in her hands. The bags had red, blue, and yellow fabric poking out from them. Alma assumed the bulges at the bottom of the bag were heel tips. When she took the bags from Sophia’s hands, her arms went limp. “What the hell is in here? The whole clothing store?”

Giddiness spread across Sophia’s face. “That is only a few of the things I wanted you to try on today. But because we’re pressed for time, I decided against it.”

A bead of sweat rolled down Alma’s temple. After working at the department store for two years, the company made Sophia a manager. Because of her managerial status, Sophia received huge discounts on all the items in the store. However, this meant Alma had to succumb to being Sophia’s personal dress up doll.

Alma side-stepped, giving Sophia room to come inside the apartment. Sophia searched the living room. “Where are your siblings?”

Alma shut the door with her foot. “I sent them to Marco’s. It was better to send them there since I’m going to be at the party tonight.”

“Good choice.” Sophia said.

She headed to Alma’s bedroom. Alma entered the room after her. She set the bags on the floor with a huff. “I wanted to choose something already in my closet for the party. I asked you to come over for a second opinion. Not bring a bunch of clothes with you.”

Sophia scoffed. “I love your sense of style Al, but none of the clothes in your closet were going to work.”

Alma put a hand to her chest. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“They’re too comfortable. Now don’t get me wrong. You have a good mix of hoodies, cute dresses, leggings, and fancy clothes. But none of it is appropriate for a college party.”

“What do you consider appropriate for a college party?” Alma asked, making air quotes.

Sophia dug through her bags and pulled out a blue dress. She tossed it to Alma and commanded her to put on the dress.

Alma changed into the dress. She stepped in front of the mirror. Her mouth gaped. The dress hugged her body in a tight embrace. It had a deep cut down the middle, revealing her cleavage. The hem of the dress stopped at Alma’s upper thighs. Alma feared people would get a peek of her ass if she bent at the wrong angle.

“You look so sexy. The boys at this party are going to be all over you.” Sophia gushed.

Alma tugged at the dress. “I can’t wear this. It leaves nothing to the imagination. I might as well walk into the party naked.”

“If you don’t like that one, I have plenty more for you to try on.” Sophia said as she yanked more dresses from the bags.

Alma tried on most of the dresses Sophia brought. Each one was just as raunchy as the blue one.

“Sophie, did you not bring anything normal?” Alma asked, peeved.

“I wanted you to wear something out of your comfort zone. Plus, you have such a great body. You need to show it off.”

“Not as great as yours.” Alma mumbled to herself. Sophia oozed with confidence no matter what she wore. She had every right to. Everything looked good on Sophia. Even more so since she cut her hair to shoulder length. Her bouncy red curls framed her face, highlighting her most attractive facial features. In heels, she towered over most men. But they still flocked to her like she was a majestic goddess ready to answer their prayers.

“What about this one?” Sophia held up a long sleeved black dress. The sleeves and upper chest were see-through. “This one is a little more tame than the others.”

Alma grabbed the dress from Sophia’s hands. She pulled it over her head and down her body. The dress was tight-fitting but looser than the ones she had already tried on. The bottom of the dress reached the middle of her thighs. Alma stroked her sides. She posed multiple times, checking herself out in the mirror. “This is the one.” Alma said.

Sophia clapped her hands together. “It doesn’t show too much skin. It’s classy while still being sexy. That dress is perfect for you.”

“Thanks.” Alma responded. I wonder what Bruno would think of this dress? Would he say it was cute or sexy? I’d really want him to say sexy. Alma’s thoughts caused to blood rush to her cheeks.

“What’s got you blushing?” Sophia asked smugly.

Alma turned to hide her face and muttered, “Nothing. Just thinking about something.”

Alma couldn’t see it, but she felt the sly smirk on Sophia’s face.

Sophia breathed out an exaggerated sigh. “Although he wishes it were him, I know my dear younger brother is not the boy who occupies your thoughts.”

Alma occasionally played along with Sophia and Manzo in teasing Giuseppe about his little crush on her (By playing along, Alma just sat next to Giuseppe attempting to look cuter). However, as they grew older, Giuseppe’s feelings for her became stronger. Alma stopped joining in on the teasing and set clear boundaries with Giuseppe. She wanted to respect his feelings towards her. Even though she didn’t feel the same. Time alone with Giuseppe could get awkward, but they were still good friends regardless. Giuseppe would find a nice girl who would return his love as he studied in Milan. Well, that’s what Alma hoped for him.

“So let me guess. The guy you're interested in is Signore Buccellati isn’t it?” Sophia asked.

Alma’s expression gloomed. “Yeah, it is.”

Sophia blinked a few times. “I did not expect you to admit that so quickly. Usually, you would have argued with me about it.”

“You were going to force it out of me anyway. I figured there was no point in denying it. I am curious how you found out it was Bruno.”

Sophia leaned back on her elbows. “I see the way you two look at each other when I go to the restaurant.  Plus, you're the only one who calls him by his first name. And the only one he allows to call him by his first name. With that said, you don’t look too happy about your feelings for him.”

Alma sat next to Sophia. The bed groaned under her weight. “I don’t talk about my relationship with him for reasons. But, I feel like I should tell you this for context. When we were younger, Bruno and I promised to confide in each other. He’s been my closest friend ever since. You, Giuseppe, Manzo, and Angelo are all close to me. But with Bruno, it’s a little different. He understands me in a way nobody else can. Even with our promise, sometimes I feel like I’m not what he needs.”

Sophia placed her hand over Alma’s. “What makes you say that?”

Alma wanted to erase what she heard this morning-the conversation between Bruno and Miguel. She didn’t catch everything they said because she faded in and out of sleep. However, Miguel’s words she heard clearly. “If you started dating my sister, I don’t know if I would like you anymore.” His words struck something in Alma. A nagging realization she had been running from. She can’t get any closer to Bruno. The blood on his hands, his growing position in the mafia, and his teammates did not faze her. She would have avoided Bruno years ago if that were the case. She can’t get closer to Bruno because she can’t give all of herself to him. Guilt, pain, regret, and self-hatred were emotions that were tied together with memories from her past. Memories that Alma kept a tight lid on deep inside herself. No matter how close she got to someone, she could never allow those emotions and truths to be released onto them. Not Marco, her siblings, or Angelo. Not Sophia or Giuseppe. And not Bruno, the person she wanted to spend the most time with. The person she wanted to hold close. The person she swore to trust in.

Alma closed her eyes. In the darkness, the serpent that haunted her dreams stared at her with it’s demonic eyes. Her muscles tensed as it slithered around her body. Its words reverberated in her ears. “You’re a liar.”

So be it. For the safety of those around her, she would be a liar. This nightmare was hers and hers alone to bare.

“Alma, you okay?” Sophia asked. She squeezed Alma’s hand.

Alma opened her eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You never answered my question. Why do you feel like you're not what Signore Buccellati needs?”

Alma gave Sophia a fake smile as she told her a half-truth. “Because I can’t give him my undivided attention. I have a job, school, and my siblings to worry about. He needs someone who can be there for him more often than I can.”

“And he’s also dangerous. You know him better than I do so I can’t judge. If anyone can make a romantic relationship between the two of you work though, it would be you.”

Alma wished she could believe in Sophia’s words, but her lid needed to stay on.

Sophia got off the bed and stretched her arms. “I have to do your makeup.”

Alma patted her cheeks. “Transform me Sophie.”

“You look good. Ready to go?” Angelo asked enthusiastically.

Alma slammed the car door closed. “Yeah. But my appearance is all Sophie’s work.” Alma glanced over Angelo’s body. He wore a simple, blue button down shirt with a pair of black jeans and white sneakers. “You're dressed really casually. Didn’t feel like getting fancy tonight?”

“Absolutely not. I only dress fancy for dates and important events.”

Angelo drove to the university in thirty minutes. Alma could only see parts of the campus from where she and Angelo were. The campus was not anything special. The school consisted of white Renaissance buildings with black window frames. There was no greenery except for a few trees and bushes. If a foreigner came to Italy, they would think the school was part of the city. However, to Alma, the school was a castle. She was a princess ready to be drilled by her instructors to take on the art world.

The party was in one of the houses near the University of Naples’ campus. Upbeat music poured out of the house. At the entrance, people were holding red plastic cups. Some struggled to walk while others were hunched over vomiting. Before Alma stepped inside, a wave of heat hit her.

“Are all college parties this hot?” Alma asked, fanning herself.

“You’ll forget the heat is there by the time you start enjoying yourself. But to answer your question, yes.” Angelo responded.

Alma and Angelo moved through the crowd of people. Now that she was inside the house, the music boomed in her ears at a deafening volume. A group of boys waved at Angelo. He nodded at them then turned to Alma. “I’m gonna go hang out with my friends. You’re welcomed to come with me.”

The idea of hanging out with those boys was off putting. Angelo’s college friends weren’t like Giuseppe or Manzo. They gave off an uncomfortable vibe. Alma shook her head and said, “You can go along. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Angelo gave her one last look before leaving to mingle with his friends and other students.

Alma had been at the party for well over fifteen minutes, but all she had done was tuck herself into a corner. She felt like a child amongst all these college students. The boys bodies were more built than the ones she knew in high school. The girls were only in their late teens and early twenties but looked like they had full on careers. Their revealing clothing made Alma appear as though she never finished developing. She blushed at the sight of couples sticking their tongues down each other’s throats as they fumbled up the stairs. The smell of alcohol made her nose tingle.

Someone tapped Alma’s shoulder. She whipped her head to them and met Angelo’s golden eyes.

“You look like a lost puppy. Come here.” Angelo grabbed her wrist, pulling Alma into the kitchen. He shoved one of the red plastic cups on the snack table into her hand.

Alma stared at the red liquid in the cup. “What’s in here?”

“A bunch of hard liquor. But its mixed with a bunch of juice and soda, so you can’t taste it.”

Alma drank alcohol before. Her and Angelo snuck into Marco’s personal stash multiple times during their nighttime adventures.

“That means this stuff is dangerous.” Alma said.

“You wouldn’t be lying. This stuff can get you drunk really quickly. But I suggest you drink some of it to loosen up a little. The people here aren’t much older than you are. So stop looking like they're gonna eat you or something. You’re not even that shy of a person.”

Alma sighed. “You’re right. I’ll go have some fun.” Alma drowned the entire cup. The liquid tasted like Angelo’s description-an amalgamation of different juice and soda brands. However, the burning sensation as the liquid went down Alma’s throat, reminded her that there was alcohol in the concoction. Alma rolled her shoulders as the liquor freed her from earlier anxiety.

Alma grabbed Angelo’s arm and dragged him into the living room. A fast paced song started playing. Alma moved her body to the beat of the music. Her dancing wasn’t the greatest, but it was good enough to get a couple of onlookers. Angelo danced better than she did. Each move Alma did, Angelo followed up with a cooler one. The other people at the party joined Angelo and Alma in their dancing. Her ears rang from the cheers and her own laughter.

During the dancing, a strange object caught Alma’s eye. In the corner of the room, a boy popped a fairy blue piece of candy in his mouth. Alma stopped moving. Everything around her stopped moving. Her stomach clenched. What is that doing here? How did it get here? Who’s...no.

Alma shuffled her way through the crowd. She reached the kitchen and drank another cup of the alcohol and juice mix. She drank another and another. She needed the alcohol to make her forget what she saw. She did not want to remember the horrors of that fairy blue thing.

The alcohol attacked her system. The intoxication mellowed her thoughts. A hand creeped onto her back. A husky male voice whispered in her ear, “Hey, you were the girl dancing just now? I think you’re really cute. Wanna go upstairs?”

The hand travelled to her waist. The man's touch made Alma’s body seize. He yanked Alma against his chest. Alma pushed against him in an attempt to free herself from his grasp. The man’s grip tightened in response. “Why are you struggling so much? I’ll be gentle. I promise.” His hands roamed her back. The path of his fingers were like burning venom under skin. The serpent’s eyes flashed in her mind. When she gazed up at the man, Dino’s face was there. Vile phantom touches from her memories became a reality. The room felt as though it was closing in on her. Alma’s breathing became ragged. She was on the verge of hyperventilating. She wanted to scream and hide. With one hard shove, she escaped the man’s hold on her.

Alma dashed out of the house. She ran. The university, the streets, and people were a blur, but she didn’t care. She continued to run. The fairy blue candy, Dino’s face, and the serpent were too much.

Alma’s heel broke, making her trip. Her face hit the pavement of the sidewalk, but she didn’t feel it. The alcohol created cracks in the lid storing all of Alma’s most hurtful emotions, memories, and truths. The pain from them overpowered any bruise or scratch from smacking the sidewalk head on. People walked past Alma probably assuming she was some drunk. Good. She didn’t deserve nor want their sympathy. She deserved to have the serpent crush the life out of her. Even so, she yearned for someone to comfort her. She wanted her father and mother. She wanted the warmth of their presence to remind her she was going to be okay. But they were gone. And so was their warmth. The only warmth she wanted now was Bruno’s.

But Bruno didn’t need to see her this way. Broken and drunk. However, Alma’s actions contradicted her thoughts. She reached for her phone and dialed Bruno’s number.

“Hey Alma. What’s up?”

Her words came out in choked sobs. “I need help. Please Bruno. Please help me.”

“Alma where are you?” He asked frantically.

Alma glanced at the street signs and told him the address. He came to her in a hurry. Bruno pressed an arm against Alma’s back and hooked his other one under her legs. He hoisted her up and placed her in his car. Alma’s mind fogged for the entire car ride. Bruno drove to her apartment. He carried her inside and sat Alma up on the couch, but her head fell in his lap. He stroked her hair. His voice was soft and full of care. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Alma’s body curled into a fetal position. She started shaking. “I was at the party. I was having fun. Everything was fine. But too much happened. The fairy blue, the guy forcing himself on me. I just needed someone.”

Bruno’s legs tensed under her cheek. “Some guy tried to force himself on you? Where is he?” Bruno seethed with rage.

“I shouldn’t have done that last night.” Bruno whispered. He twirled a strand of Alma’s hair around his finger. He tugged on it every so often. Bruno fought off the urge to lower the hand he had on Alma’s waist. But his hand was stubborn. It inched closer and closer to Alma’s butt. The greedy bastard. He made the mistake of allowing his gaze to travel to her lips. Alma’s lips were plump and succulent. She slightly sucked on her bottom lip when she slept. Bruno bit his own lip to stop himself from pressing a kiss against Alma’s. Alma moaned a cute noise and snuggled into his chest. That small act almost skewed Bruno’s sense of judgement. Bruno released Alma as if her body were made of hot metal. He scrambled to sit upright.

Bruno stared at the cushion fort’s ceiling. He needed to focus his attention on something that was not Alma. After a few moments of useless attempts, he peeked at her. He didn’t trust himself to look at Alma’s face, so he settled on her chest. He watched her chest rise and fall with every breath. However, he became more enamored by the curves of her breast than her breathing. Bruno’s whole upper body constricted. He needed to leave the fort.

Bruno crawled free from the fort. He brought his leg up to his chest and rested his forehead against his knee. Bruno had messed up. He hugged Alma too often. He grasped her face too often. He touched her hair too often. He daydreamed about her too often. He wanted to be with her too often. What he deemed as a physical attraction was starting to grow into something more. Something he needed to put an end to. Now. Just by being his friend, Alma tethered on the line of the mafia and civilian life. If she got any closer to Bruno, she would be pulled into his world. And he would never be able to push her back to the civilian side.

A sudden sense of warmth came from Bruno’s side. He snapped his head and was met by a pair of brown eyes.

“Buon Giorno, Buccellati.” Miguel said.

“Bu-uon Giorno.” Bruno stammered. Miguel was a bit of a reserved child. He could hold a conversation and even crack a joke. He also got along well with the kids he played soccer with. But most times, he lacked a presence. One moment he’s in a room and gone the next. Unless, he was with Alma. With Alma, Miguel smiled the widest, laughed his loudest, and talked endlessly.

“What are you doing up so early?” Bruno asked.

Miguel shrugged his shoulders. “I guess I’m just an early riser. On days when I wake up earlier than Alma, I like to check up on her. I want to make sure she isn’t having any nightmares.”

“Nightmares? I didn’t know she had nightmares.” A twinge of anger rose in Bruno. It was anger at himself for not noticing Alma’s distress.

Miguel scratched his head as if realizing he said too much. “Yeah. She gets them. And sometimes when they happen, she calls out for our dad.” Miguel’s face grew sullen.

Bruno treaded carefully with his words. “Does Alma calling out your dad make you miss him?”

“No. I never knew him. I was just a baby when he died. But sometimes, when I think about him, I get a little angry.”

Bruno’s brow scrunched in confusion. “Why does thinking about your dad make you angry?”

“Uh-uhm. Nevermind. Forget I said anything.” Miguel pointed at the fort. “So-are you and Alma dating?”

Bruno’s pulse quickened. “N-no. We are strictly just friends.”

Miguel studied Bruno’s face before saying, “Okay.”

They sat in silence. Bruno tapped his finger against his knee. He would regret asking Miguel the question in his head. He asked anyway. “How would you feel if your sister and I did start dating?”

“I like you as a person. I think you're nice. And you can be fun sometimes too. But if you started dating my sister, I don’t know if I’d like you anymore.”

“That politician may have been the least of our problems.” Polpo said.

Bruno was taken aback. “What do you mean by that?”

Polpo fiddled with his wine glass. He swished the liquid around the cup but never drank any of it. “It wasn’t just the politician that was killed. I didn’t want to concern you with this, but now I guess you're involved. Several soldatos were murdered. Their territories were annexed by some mysterious group. I believe the ones who killed the politician are from the same group.”

“Couldn’t we just send more members into the overtaken territories to get them back? Part of the reason Passione rose to power so quickly was because of the use of stands. It shouldn’t be a problem to take these men out.”

Polpo cupped his chin. “Your right. It should be that easy. But the men I sent were killed. However, one did survive. In his report, he said, ‘Everyone with him was killed by bullets, knives, and something else unworldly.”

Bruno swallowed, then whispered, “A stand ability.”

“Exactly. I sent another person undercover to investigate the overtaken areas. He found this in one of the restaurants.” Polpo held up a small plastic bag with fairy blue jawbreakers in it.

Bruno perked an eyebrow. “I don’t understand. It’s just candy.”

“I thought the same thing too. But the man I sent found several people with this bag of candy. When he went to the nearest convenience stores, he couldn’t find these jawbreakers on any of the shelves. He was able to trace it back to an abandoned warehouse. Inside the warehouse, there were people high off their asses and surrounded by this stuff. He said they called it ‘Fairy Magic.’ So in other words-”

“The candy is a drug.” Bruno interrupted. His mouth went dry. His hands were clenched into fists and were trembling. Anger boiled deep inside of him, threatening to morph his stoic face into one of a raging bull.

Polpo glimpsed at Bruno’s hands then his face. He swirled the wine in his cup. “I understand your anger Buccellati. Our territory was stolen to expand some greedy mongrel’s drug trade. I do have a lead though.”

“You do?” Bruno asked.

“The man I sent to investigate saw a pimp there who has connections to us. We suspect he may have done more there than just get high. He could be moving the drugs into Passione’s turf. But we’ve had difficulty getting in contact with the pimp for a while. It’s only a struggle because he was shot by a cop and taken into custody.”

The idea of pimping women made Bruno gag. Ever since Alma told him about her mother, he’s worked hard to steer clear of pimps. Bruno wished he could be surprised about Passione’s connections with some of them. “Wasn’t that the case about the dirty cop?” Bruno asked.

Polpo nodded. “Yes, it was. I want you to try to find that cop. See if you can get any info from him about this mess.”

Polpo waved his hand, a signal that Bruno was dismissed.

Bruno stalked the scene of Abbachio’s crime for the majority of the day. The crime scene was a small abandoned house tucked inside of a former alleyway. The house had paint peeling off the walls, broken wooden boards, and empty liquor bottles strung across the floor.

The sky changed into dusk. Raindrops splashed onto Bruno’s shoulders. He opened his umbrella and prepared to leave. But Bruno’s head snapped at the sound of glass clattering. At the door of the house, stood a fit, tall man. He trudged out of the building’s darkness, allowing Bruno to get a better look at him. The man dressed in all black. The tail of his coat touched the bottom of his baggy pants. He wore a belt with a golden letter A strapped to his hips. His white hair was bone straight until it reached the base of his neck. The ends of his hair stiffened outward into mountain peaks. The man hung his head low. He held an empty wine bottle in his hand and swayed on his feet.

“You are Leone Abbacchio, right?” Bruno asked.

The man lifted his head. His eyes were layered with bags that were filled with pools of dark circles. After seeing his face, Bruno understood. Leone Abbacchio’s failure haunted not only himself but also the building. They were one entity.

“What do you want?” Abbacchio answered. His voice was gruff and hoarse.

“I need to ask you about the incident that happened here.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you. Now leave.”

Bruno stood his ground. “The man your partner shot was an important part of figuring something out for my organization. He’s in custody, so I need you to tell me everything you can about him.”

Anger flashed in Abbacchio’s eyes. He swung his arm against the wall, shattering the bottle in the process. “I said leave!” He roared.

Bruno sighed. “Abbacchio, I don’t know you that well. Matter of fact, I don’t know you at all. But one thing I can say is, how long will you let this demon from your past take over your life? I want to believe that the righteousness you once had, never died out. You can still be a man who can achieve great things.”

Bruno turned to walk away, but he stopped when Abbacchio called out to him. “What’s pushing you forward. Why do your eyes glow with conviction? Why do you talk with a sense of duty and responsibility?”

“Because I have things I want to achieve.” Bruno said without hesitation. “Fate has weaved a path for all of us. I want to stay true to the one it set for me.” Bruno closed his umbrella. He ignored the cold raindrops that drenched his suit. He wanted Abbacchio to see him fully. He wanted Abbacchio to see that he viewed him as an equal. “You’ve lost sight of your path, but I can get you back on it, Leone Abbacchio.”

Abbacchio’s mouth was slightly open. He stared at Bruno as if he were a lost child.

Bruno spoke. “There is a restaurant named Libeccio’s. When you feel ready to change, I’ll be there waiting.”

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Alma’s hands focused on wiping the tables, but her eyes were glued to the reserved seating area. Bruno hadn’t eaten in the restaurant for a whole week. When he finally started coming in again, he brought a strange, new companion with him. If Alma were to be honest, Bruno’s new friend had a mean mug that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand. Ever since he joined Bruno’s entourage, Alma’s been hesitant to serve the reserved table.

“I just wish that scary, white haired guy and Fugo weren’t there so I could talk to Bruno. His blue eyes are so dreamy. And I can listen to him talk all day with that deep voice of his. What I would give to just hear him say, ‘I love you Alma.’” Angelo whispered in Alma’s ear in an exaggerated feminine voice.

Alma elbowed him in the gut. Angelo lurched forward, holding his stomach.

“I was not thinking that you ass.” Alma said, annoyed.

Angelo straightened himself. “Sure you weren't. But there is something you might find more interesting that Buccellati.” Angelo held a white envelope sealed by a red and yellow coat of arms.

Alma snatched the envelope from Angelo’s hand. “This is from the University of Naples.”

“Sure is. I got it from the mailbox just now. I guess the school hasn’t updated your address in the records yet.”

Alma’s feet were nailed to the floor. Angelo had to grab her shoulders to walk her into the kitchen.

Marco peeked at them. “What’s wrong?”

“Alma got a letter from the University of Naples.” Angelo replied.

Marco dropped the pot in his hand to stand over Alma’s shoulder. Everyone in the kitchen stared at her in anticipation. Alma’s hands shook as she peeled off the seal. Her heart had beaten with enough power to burst free from her ribcage. She unfolded the letter and read the first sentence three times. Alma gripped the piece of paper so tight that she crumpled the edges. She jumped up and down, screeching, “I GOT IN!”

The kitchen exploded into cheers and hollers. Alma stopped jumping to read the letter aloud. Her mind moved faster than her mouth, making her words jumbled.

“Dear Alma Calamaro,

We are pleased to offer you admission into the University of Naples’ Art program. The admission staff was very impressed with your credentials and portfolio. On behalf of the admissions committee, we would like to offer you a full ride for all four years of your attendance at the University of Naples.”

The shouting in the kitchen doubled in volume. Marco and Angelo threw their arms around Alma, joining her in the jumping ritual.

Angelo released her to say, “I know the perfect way we can celebrate. We’re having an end of the year party on campus tomorrow. You have to come. It’s a great way to see the campus and chill with some of the students.”

Alma rocked her head side to side. “Parties aren’t really my thing, but I wanna go to this one. I really want to see my future campus.”

Angelo high fived her.

Marco held Alma’s face in his hands and smooched her forehead. “You smart girl. You got a whole full ride. I am so proud of you. I know your parents would be proud too.”

Alma clutched her parents’ wedding bands. “I’m happy to make you and them proud. Thank you zio.”

The kitchen staff came up to Alma to ruffle her hair, pat her on the back, and kiss her cheeks.

Alma’s face hurt from smiling for the entirety of her shift. Her usual fear of taking out the trash was overshadowed by her joy. So much so, she did not sense the person who snuck behind her clamp their hands onto her shoulders.

Alma jumped at the contact. She spun on her heels, but sighed in relief at the figure in front of her. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Bruno, I told you were a creep. And,’ She poked his chest. “I’m still mad about this tattoo.”

Bruno’s lips curled in amusement. He cupped a hand over his ear and said, “My bad. I didn’t catch all that. Your Sicilian dialect comes out when you're upset.”

Growing up, Alma’s parents forbade her from speaking Sicilian. They told her that if she spoke in Sicilian dialect, people from the mainland would never understand what she was saying. As a result, she only spoke in traditional Italian. But when she was with Doc, she only spoke in Sicilian.

Alma rolled her eyes at Bruno. “I said I’m still mad about the tattoo. And that you're a creep.”

Bruno laughed. “You're still not over it?”

“I was the one who suggested we get tattoos in the first place. But you know what you did? Went and got one without me. Traitor.”

“I’m sorry.” Bruno said, struggling to hold in another laugh.

“And he finally apologizes, but it’s not even a genuine one.”

Bruno leaned on the wall. “I heard all that screaming from the kitchen earlier. What happened?”

Alma bounced on the balls of her feet. “I got into the school. On a full ride to.”

“You serious?” Bruno asked, amazed.

Alma hummed, placing her hands on her hips. Bruno grasped her arms and pulled Alma into a hug. She flushed.

“I’m not surprised, but I’m still really proud of you Alma.”

Alma wrapped her arms around Bruno’s middle and smiled into his chest. “Thanks.” She gazed up at him. “Do you mind walking me home?”

“Yes, I do actually.”

“Bruno.” Alma said sternly.

“I’m joking. Yeah, I’ll walk you home.”

As they strolled to Alma’s apartment, Bruno asked, “You haven’t been serving my table recently. What’s the problem?”

“Your new friend is the problem. He has a face that scares children.”

Bruno snorted. “Abbacchio scares you? I agree, he’s not the most approachable person. But he’s not impossible to talk to.”

“If you say so.” Alma mumbled, unlocking her apartment door. She whipped her head to Bruno. “You wanna come in?”

He shrugged his shoulders and stepped through the door. Alma entered after him. She paused to blink at the mess in her living room. There were pillows and snack wrappers surrounding a giant fort made from black couch cushions, multi-colored blankets, and the dining room chairs.

Emilio crawled out of the fort. “You brought Buccellati with you? Yay. You two come inside. It’s scary story night.” He dipped back inside the tower of cushions.

Bruno cocked his head. “Scary story night?”

Alma scratched her cheek. “Yeah. It’s something we started doing on Friday nights a few months ago. We make a giant fort in the living room, and I tell them scary stories. I was so caught up with news from the university, that story night slipped my mind. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I know you're busy.”

Bruno shook his head. “No it’s fine. I’ll stay.”

Alma failed to hide the growing grin on her lips. “Angelo keeps spare pajamas here, so you can wear those. You can find them by the washing machine.”

Alma dashed to her room to change into her pajamas: a pair of red, checkered cotton pants and a short-sleeved black crop top. She rummaged through her shelves. “Where did I put it? Oh, found it.” Alma grabbed the small sketchbook on her top shelf before leaving her room.

Her breath hitched upon seeing Bruno exit the bathroom. His undone braid added volume to his sleek bob. He wore Angelo’s silky black pajama bottoms along with a white tank top. His long arms were on display in their full glory. Alma wanted to run her fingers across the sharp and rigid muscles.

“Something the matter?” Bruno asked.

Alma’s face started burning. “Nope. Nothing’s wrong. Just glad Angelo’s clothes fit.”

Bruno crawled into the fort. Alma turned off all the lights in the house and followed in after him. Isabella shined the flashlight on Alma as she crossed her legs.

“You guys ready?” Alma asked.

Her siblings nodded their heads. Bruno leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “Let’s see how scary this story is.”

Alma opened her sketchbook. She began reciting her story while flipping to the corresponding pages.

“There once was a young boy who lived in a poor, little village. Everyday, he and the villagers struggled to find something to eat. Only one house in the village had an abundance of food. And that was the Black Mansion. But everyone in the village avoided the Black Mansion. It sat on top of a hill surrounded by dark storm clouds that shot off booming thunder. Even when the sun was out, it always looked like night time at the Black Mansion.

One day, one of the boy’s friends dared him to go to the Black Mansion.

‘I don’t want to go. It’s scary.’ The boy whined.

‘But I heard that if you go and the people living there like you, they’ll give you food. You could bring some back to the village.’ His friend said.

In hopes of getting food, the boy climbed the hill to the Black Mansion. There were bats flying around every corner of the mansion. Black cats meowed like they were in pain. Terrified, the boy ran to the door and rang the bell.

The door opened slowly with a loud creak. Standing at the door, was a man as tall as a tree. He had a bald head, and his skin was paler than snow. And he wore all black. Behind the man, was a woman who the boy assumed was his wife. She too wore all black. She had giant black spirals for hair, and her skin was just as pale as her husband’s. Even their eyes were black. The boy gulped.

The couple smiled at the boy. They said at the same time, ‘Welcome to our home. Would you like something to eat?’

The boy’s lips quivered as he answered with a weak, ‘Y-yes.’

The couple waved for him to come into their home. The boy jumped at the thunderous clap of the door shutting behind him. As he walked through the dark halls, the eyes on the paintings followed him.

The couple led him to the kitchen. The wife served the boy a plate of glazed ham, fluffy mashed potatoes, and fresh peas.

The boy’s mouth watered. He slowly took a bite of the food. His eyes sparkled. He shoved more and more of the food into his mouth. The wife refilled his plate over and over.

When the boy finished eating, he couldn’t move. The husband leaned in close to his face. He showed the boy his sharp, pointy teeth and said, ‘Now it’s time for us to eat.’ The husband and wife gobbled the boy in one bite.“

Alma turned to the last page in her sketchbook. On the page, was a drawing of the husband and wife. They were baring their jagged teeth with pieces of hair and clothing between the gaps. “The couple spoke in unison, ‘We can’t wait for our next visitor.’”

Alma snuck her hand behind her back and knocked on the leg of one of the chairs. All the color drained from her siblings faces. They screamed and climbed over each to escape the fort.

Alma and Bruno cackled. Alma wiped the stray tears from her eyes. Bruno calmed himself and said, “You make such a happy home for them.”

Alma scooted closer to Bruno. Her hip touched his. Alma rested her head on his warm shoulder. “It's a happy home you will always be welcomed to, Bruno.”

Bruno’s shoulder tensed under her cheek. He moved to lay on the blankets, pulling Alma down with him. He snaked an arm around her waist. Alma’s heartbeat quickened and a deep blush formed on her face.

Alma laid in an empty, white room. She rose to her feet and paced the area, searching for something but not knowing what. She didn’t know if she walked for minutes, hours, or days. The room had no concept of time or space. It was never-ending nothingness. A sweet smell tickled her nose. She closed her eyes and inhaled deep, relieved to have found something in the room. But the smell went from pleasant to horrific. It became too much. It made her eyes water. It made her stomach churn. It burned her throat causing her to hack. Hey eyes shot open. Fairy blue dust clouded the room. Panic rippled through Alma's body as she swatted at the air. The dust cloud grew thicker and deeper in color. The dust changed into a liquefied state. It coiled around Alma’s body, squeezing her tighter as it inched closer to her face.

As if with the flip of a light switch, the room darkened into a pitch black. The liquified dust transformed into a dark green serpent. It almost camouflaged with the darkness. The serpent’s eyes were golden with slitted pupils that bore into her soul. It’s scaly body slowly made its way around her neck. Alma gasped for air but choked from the pressure the serpent applied on her throat. No amount of wriggling or thrashing could help her escape the serpent’s snare. Her face started to change color from the lack of air. Hot tears streamed down Alma’s face. Her bladder released its contents. Her body shook uncontrollably. “You’re a liar. Your ability will always be mine. You’ll never escape me, (Y/n).” The serpent’s voice was raspy, and it stretched its words. The voice was familiar. It was a voice she hadn’t heard in five years. Alma tried to scream but there was no sound. The serpent let out a malicious laugh before sinking its fangs into Alma’s cheek. The venom was like lava coursing through her veins.

Alma sprung up from her bed. Her breaths were sporadic. She clawed at her face like the imaginary, burning venom still flowed within her. After a few seconds, she calmed herself. Alma put a hand on her forehead. “I’m still having these damn nightmares.” She whispered, aggravated. She reached for parents’ wedding bands on top of her small drawer. She pulled the string over her head and clutched the rings close to her chest. She breathed deep and exhaled. “It's okay. They’ll go away with time.” She repeated the phrase over and over, forcing herself to believe it.

Alma swung her legs over the edge of her bed. She grabbed the sketchpad sandwiched between her drawer and bed. She flipped through drawings of her siblings, Bruno, and landscapes until she landed on a blank page. She removed the charcoal pencil buried in the pad’s spiral and began to sketch. She shaded the entire page except for the middle. Alma poured her fears and anxieties onto the page as she drew the serpent's eyes in the middle. The eyes stared back at her with the same fervor as if she were still in her nightmare. She quickly closed the book and slid it into its original spot.

A soft knock rattled against her door. “Come in.” Alma said. The door opened and Miguel walked inside the room. “I thought I heard you scream earlier. You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Alma replied. She patted the spot next to her. Miguel huddled beside her. Their shoulders pressed together. Alma poked his cheek and sighed. His chubby cheeks were a result of baby fat. They slimmed down over the past year to Alma’s dismay. He still kept his hair shoulder length. His lanky body made it up to Alma’s upper arm. “Yeah, no more cheek pinching for you.” Miguel said, sticking out the tip of his tongue.

Alma playfully shoved his shoulder with her own. “Don’t be a butt. The other two awake yet?”

Miguel shook his head. “They’re gonna be up soon. I tried making breakfast, but the eggs were too salty.”

Surprise decorated Alma’s features. “You tried making breakfast? You know me or Marco will cook for you guys.”

“I know, but he’s in the restaurant. And I like making less work for you.”

Alma jutted her bottom lip and brought Miguel into a tight embrace. Miguel’s maturity for his age never ceased to amaze Alma. He may have burned food sometimes or got the house messy while babysitting Isabella and Emilio, but his efforts were endearing nonetheless. He gently pushed Alma off of him. “Alma, you don’t need to hug me for every little thing.”

“But I want to reward you for trying to help me. I guess because you're a growing boy, you don’t want your big sister hugging you all the time. I’ll tell you what. When we move into the new apartment, I’ll save up to buy you a new game.”

Miguel’s face lit up. “Really!”

Alma chuckled. “Really.”

Miguel pumped a fist into the air. Alma shooed him out of her room so she could get dressed. She threw on a pair of blue denim shorts and a black, long sleeved shirt. As she exited her room, Isabella and Emilio bumbled out of their rooms. Emilio was up to her waist now. His ponytail swayed against the bottom of his neck. With all he ate on a daily basis, Emilio somehow maintained the same lanky body as Miguel. Even though they had different fathers, Miguel and Emilio were like twins excluding their different eye colors. “Buon Giorno, Alma.” Sleep still lingered in Emilio’ voice.

“Buon Giorno, Emilio, Isabella.”

Isabella yawned and pressed her head into Alma’s thighs. She squatted a bit to rub Isabella’s back. Alma assumed Isabella would grow to look like her brothers despite her albinism. But the opposite happened. She mostly took after her mystery father. She shared little physical resemblance with anyone else in the family.

“You guys go brush your teeth. I’ll make us a quick breakfast. We have to go sign the last of the paperwork today before we move into the apartment next week.” Alma said.

“Okay.” Isabella and Emilio responded in unison. They headed to the bathroom while Alma and Miguel went to the kitchen. Alma ate a spoonful of Miguel’s eggs. Her lips puckered. Miguel gazed at her like he was waiting for a judge to give him his verdict. Alma had to brace herself to swallow. She grabbed the counter and strained a smile. “The eggs weren’t that bad.”

“You don’t have to force yourself to like it.”

Alma opened the trashcan and emptied the pan. She cooked a new batch of less salty eggs. Her siblings sat at the table as she served them. Emilio wolfed down his share and pushed his plate towards Alma. She placed her hand on her hip. “You just want seconds. You don’t need seconds Emilio.”

Emilio scowled at her grumbling, “Fine.”

After eating breakfast, they went downstairs into the restaurant. Marco squished Alma’s cheeks in his hands. “Do you guys really have to move out?”

Alma gently grasped his wrists and lowered his hands. “I told you didn’t I. I would be out of your place in five years.”

Marco interweaved his hands with hers. “Well, If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask.“

“Even if I didn’t ask, you would give me what I needed anyway. I can’t thank you enough for helping me get this apartment and taking caring of us for these past five years.” He let go of her hands and bear hugged her. Alma’s feet dangled off the ground. He dropped her and did the same with each of her siblings. He waved goodbye to them as they departed for the apartment complex.

The building was only a twenty minute minute walk from the restaurant. By the time she arrived, the building owner was waiting for her inside the apartment.

“Hello Mrs. Calamaro. Are you ready to do the last bit of paperwork for this place?” The owner asked.

“Yes, I am.” Alma motioned for her siblings to go inside. “You guys go hang out in the living room for me. After this, we can go get ice cream.”

Her siblings’s eyes sparkled as they ran into the living room. Alma set her bag at the door and followed the realtor into the kitchen. The apartment was on the ninth floor of a ten story complex. It had three bedrooms and one bathroom. The living room and kitchen were tight fits but not unmanageable. The highlight of the apartment was the balcony. Alma daydreamed about all the late nights she could spend drawing on it with the city lights shining in front of her.

The owner laid a piece of paper in front of her. “Okay Mrs. Calamaro, by signing here you are agreeing to a two year lease. The rent on this place is 400 dollars a month along with utilities. Now mind you, the only reason your rent is so cheap is because I owe Marco one. You will pay your rent directly to me and not the front desk. This is to avoid complications with the other tenants. I don’t need anyone breathing down my neck about favoritism. Understand?”

Alma nodded. “Yes. Thank you so much for dropping the rent for me.”

The owner of the building, Mr. Moreci, was an old acquaintance of Marco’s from his college days. He owed Marco for helping him when he was low on money. Because of that, Mr. Moreci vowed to assist Marco if he were ever in need. Alma appreciated that Marco used one of those favors to get her a great rate on the apartment.

“No problem.” Mr. Moreci handed Alma pen. She read the information in the contract one last time and signed. Mr. Moreci stuck out his hand to Alma. “It will be a pleasure to have you move in next Saturday, Mrs. Calamaro.”

She gave his hand a  firm shake. “The pleasure is all mine.”

Next Saturday came in a flash. Marco held Alma in his arms and nuzzled his cheek on top of her head. “I’m gonna miss you guys.” He sniffled.

Alma returned his hug. “Marco, it’s not like we’re leaving forever. I’m just moving down the street.”

“I know, I know. I just wish you would have waited until the summer to move out. That way, you would’ve still been living here when you graduated high school.”

“I graduate in the next few weeks so it’s not that bad. Anyway, Bruno and Angelo are waiting for us at the apartment.”

Marco reluctantly released Alma. He passed her a gift basket filled with sweets. “Your sweet tooth is insatiable. So I packed this for you.”

Alma dug through the basket. She stopped at a small white box. Her eyes gleamed like a child in a candy store. “Is this what I think it is?” She asked, her voice raising in pitch.

Marco hummed. “Caramel cannoli. I remember you saying it was your favorite dessert when you lived in Sicily. I’m better at cooking than baking, but I wanted to make something special for you. Tonio probably would have made it better though.”

Alma put the basket on the table and wrapped her arms around Marco, tightening her grip. “It doesn’t matter. It’s gonna taste great. But it is a shame that Tonio moved to Japan last year. I miss him.”

“I do too.” Marco said.

Alma kissed Marco’s cheek before leaving the restaurant.

Since Alma did not have many possessions, the move took little time.

“Where do you want the couch Alms?” Angelo asked.

Alma pointed in the middle of the living room. “Over there.”

Bruno and Angelo lowered the couch onto the ground. Angelo dusted off his hands. “That’s everything, right?”

“Yup.” Alma said, pouring lemonade into two glasses. Her siblings zipped past everyone to place dibs on their new rooms. Alma called out to them, “The biggest room is my room. The next biggest room belongs to Emilio and Miguel.”

“Why does Isabella get her own room?” Emilio shouted.

“Because she’s a girl and needs her space.” Alma retorted.

Alma carried the glasses to Angelo and Bruno. They thanked her and drank the lemonade. Alma’s eyes flickered from Angelo to Bruno. Angelo used to have several inches on Bruno, but now they were the same height. Both of their bodies were lean. Angelo allowed stubble to grow on his face while Bruno didn’t. But Alma liked Bruno’s face bare. His skin was soft and smooth to the touch. Over the years, all of Bruno’s features had sharpened. His jaw chiseled, his lips plumped, and his brows became fuller. Puberty did wonders for his voice. It’s rich and deep tonation sent pleasurable tingles through Alma every time he spoke. Alma enjoyed the view of his tattooed chest from the opening in his black, polka dotted suit. It also annoyed her because she caught herself gawking at the toned muscles often.

Soft buzzing came from Bruno’s pocket. He pulled out his phone and answered it. “Buccellati speaking. Ah Fugo. I understand. I’ll be there in a few.” He hung up.

“Everything alright?” Alma asked.

He gave her a comforting smile. “Yeah. I just have to handle some business.”

She glanced at him, worried. “Be safe.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “I will. Don’t worry.” He stepped around her and left the apartment.

Angelo scoffed. “Watching you guys is sickening.”

Alma playfully shoved him. Angelo fell on the couch, feigning to be hurt.

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Fugo slammed the politician on his desk. His back connected with the wood with a loud bang. Blood trickled from his nose, and his busted lip. Fugo rammed his fist into the politician’s face. He cried in pain. Fugo yanked the politician by the collar, forcing him to sit upright.

Bruno walked towards the desk with his hands in his pockets. “It was smart of you to hide once Polpo caught on to you. But how long did you think you could fuck with the organization and live.” Bruno backhanded the politician. His neck snapped to the side. A red handprint started to form on his face.

The politician turned back to Bruno. He flailed his hands as he begged. “Please, Mr. Buccellati. I can explain everything. I swear.”

Bruno sat in the wooden chair across from the desk. He rested his cheek on his fist. “Start explaining.”

The politician’s gaze went back and forth between Bruno and Fugo. Fugo struck him again. “He said explain.” He yelled.

The politician yelped. “I was paid by a man to throw some of Passione’s men in jail.”

“Who paid you?” Bruno asked. He tapped his foot as he waited for the man to answer.

“It was a man named-” The politician did not finish his sentence. A bullet smashed through the window and hit the back of his head. His blood splattered onto his suit, the desk, and Fugo’s face. Bruno slung an arm around Fugo's waist and ducked behind the desk.

“Who the hell was that?” Fugo asked, shocked.

Its been five years. Alma and Bruno are all grown up! Its the year 1999, but it is still some time before Bruno’s 19th birthday.

"Alma! I brought back the first aid kit. I almost woke up the old man while getting it, but I think we'll be okay." Angelo yelled as he climbed into the treehouse. He gawked at the sight in front of him. Alma slept next to Buccellati, cradling his hand. Both of their cheeks were tear stained, but their faces were peaceful.

Angelo set the first aid kit next to Alma. He grabbed two blankets from the bundles on the floor. He draped one on top of her and used the other to wrap around himself. He sat crossed legged in front of Alma, patting her head. The corners of his mouth upturned as he gazed at her. "I have no idea what happened between you guys to end up in this position, but I hope you found out everything you were looking for." He glanced at Buccellati, his mouth going tight lipped. "I really want to see Alma happy. I hope you coming into her life doesn't ruin that."

Angelo scooted back to lay against the wall. He closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him.

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Sunlight beamed through the window. Alma opened and closed her hands at the unfamiliar warmth in them. Her eyes drifted open, and she flushed a bright red. Bruno's face was mere inches away from hers. His breath tickled her nose, and he had a tight grip on one of her hands. Quiet snores escaped his mouth. In all of the times she met with Bruno, she never got the chance to take in all of his features. He had thick eyebrows that ended in sharp arches. His eyelashes curled, with a few straight, stray hairs. The tip of his nose curved into a perfect point, and his face was oval shaped. Alma's fingers grazed the bruise on his temple. Her heart panged at the pain he must be feeling. Her eyes trailed to his lips. Alma eyed them for longer than necessary, making the burning in her cheeks grow unbearable.

Bruno's eyebrows crinkled, and he wrinkled his nose. Alma's body flew up. She let go of his hand and wiped the sweat off of her palms on her hoodie. Alma's stomach sank as she studied her hands. Oh my God! Did I get sweat on his hand? A groan came from Bruno. Alma slammed her hands onto her thighs. Bruno opened his eyes halfway then squinted. He slapped a hand over them. Alma chortled. "Is the sunlight too much for you?"

Bruno groaned again.

"You more than likely have a concussion. You're gonna have to rest for a few days." Alma said.

She moved towards the window but paused when a cold, metal object bumped her leg. It was white box with a big read plus in the middle. She picked it up. "This must be the first aid kit. But where is-" She jolted at Angelo sleeping form near the window. Alma shuffled past him to close the curtains, careful not to hit him on accident. She crawled back to Bruno. He had a sleepy smile on his face. "Buon Giorno, Alma." He slurred his words.

"Buon Giorno, Bruno." Alma respond

He tried to sit up on his elbows but hissed out in pain. Alma tucked her arm under his shoulders to help him sit upright. Her face morphed into a worried expression. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Bruno's voice strained.

Alma released him to undo the clasp on the first aid kit. She laid out the salve, bandages and surgical scissors. "Can you take off your clothes by yourself?"

Bruno looked off to the side. Pink spread across his cheeks as he spoke. "I can take off my shirt by myself. I need help with my pants though."

"That's fine."

Bruno shrugged off his jacket. He gripped the hem of his shirt and brought it over his head. Alma pulled the sleeves off of his arms. She folded the shirt and placed it next to him. Alma clenched her jaw. Bruno had different sized scratches all over his body. A giant, dark blue bruise formed in the center of his back. She pressed her fingertips against it, causing Bruno to jerk. "Sorry."

"It's fine. You can continue." Bruno said. Alma unscrewed the cap to the salve. She applied a generous amount on the bruise. She massaged it as careful as she could into his skin. Once she was done with his back, Alma coated her fingertips in more of the salve to rub into the deeper cuts on Bruno's body.

"Lift up your arms." Alma ordered. Bruno raised his arms above his head, resting his hands behind his neck. Alma undid the plastic covering on the bandages. "You're gonna have to bear through this Bruno." She pulled out the end of the strap and began to wrap it around his middle. He tensed against her hands. Alma clipped off the excess and tied the bandages into a small bow. She repeated the action with the bruise on his head.

"Alright. I need to do your leg."

"Okay." Bruno undid the button on his pants. His eyes darted around the room. Alma reached over to hold onto the waistband. She focused her eyes on his shoulder to avoid Bruno's face. He raised his legs a little to wiggle out of the pants as Alma pulled them off, leaving him in his boxers. Both of their faces were tomato red. Alma had bandaged hundreds of people with no problem. However, Bruno's cuteness made it a struggle for Alma to be professional. She lifted his leg on top of her thighs. She rubbed the salve into the bruise and wrapped the bandages around it.

"Th-thanks Alma." Bruno muttered.

"No problem." She mumbled.

Bruno coughed. "Your dad did a great job teaching you how to care for the injured."

Alma scratched the back of her neck. "Him and Doc were great teachers. But I mostly got better at it from patching up the prostitutes in my neighborhood."

"Prostitutes?"

"They used to come into my dad's clinic all the time." Alma gaze dropped to the floor. "Their pimps and clients were pretty cruel to them."

"You alright?" Bruno asked, grasping her hand. Alma rose her head to meet Bruno's concerned eyes.

"Two years after my dad died, my mom became one of the regular prostitutes in the clinic."

Bruno squeezed her hand. He tugged on it, pulling Alma into a hug. She hesitated. "I don't want to hurt you. Your injuries are still fresh."

"I'll be okay. Unless you think you're heavy."

Alma playfully smacked his shoulder. She rested her head on his chest, basking in his warm embrace. "I'll tell you something funny Bruno."

"What?"

"Everyone was so used to calling Doc by that nickname, that we all forgot his real name."

Bruno laughed, his chest vibrating under Alma's cheek. "How have you known this man for years and forgotten his name?"

"Honestly, sometimes I think even he forgets his own name." Alma said, laughing alongside Bruno.

"Well this is cute."

Alma and Bruno froze. They slowly veered their heads to Angelo. He had his arms crossed, and his lips curled into a smirk. Alma and Bruno pushed away from each other. Alma pulled up the collar of her hoodie over her face. Bruno brought his fist up to his mouth and cleared his throat. "You're Mr. Calamaro's son right?"

"That I am." Angelo's voice oozed with smugness.

"Alma told me you helped bring me up here. Thank you."

"Don't worry about it. You guys can continue cuddling." Angelo teased.

Alma yanked the hoodie away from her face. A deep blush painted her cheeks as she yelled, "We were not cuddling!"

Angelo's smirk widened. "I could be wrong, but the way you guys were hugging looked like cuddling to me. Plus, Buccellati being borderline naked really isn't helping your case."

Alma's mouth hung open. Bruno picked up his shirt but struggled to get it on. Alma moved to help him. She guided the fabric through his arms and over his torso. The blush on Bruno's face resembled Alma's. Their eyes landed on everything in the room except on each other. Angelo cackled. "I think you guys are moving a little too fast for your age. At this rate, you'll be married by the time Isabella's ready to start second grade."

Alma sprung to her feet. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead as she gulped. She had forgotten she was supposed to drop off her siblings at Sophia's this morning.

"What's wrong?" Bruno asked.

"Marco's awake and he has no idea where we are."

Angelo eyes bulged. "Oh fuck. We have to go."

Angelo and Alma dashed for the hatch. Angelo made it halfway down the ladder and jumped, landing in a crouched position. On her way down, Alma called out to Bruno, "If Marco doesn't kill us, we'll try to bring you back something to eat. I think we have a puzzle in here so mess around with that in the meantime."

She climbed to the last couple planks and threw herself off the ladder. She stumbled but quickly regained her balance. Her and Angelo glanced at the treehouse before bolting home.

When they made it to the restaurant, the sign read closed. Sweat drenched Alma's hoodie. She gripped her knees, panting. "Thank God the restaurant is still closed."

"That does not mean we are in the clear. It's early morning but not early morning for the old man." Angelo huffed. He pushed the door open, and they stalked into the restaurant. Every muscle in Alma's body stiffened as gaze met Marco's. He had his hands intertwined on the table. Creases layered on his forehead. His brows were scrunched together so hard they were touching. His deep brown eyes shone with anger, and his lips were curled downward. The urge to hide in her hoodie became more powerful with every blink of Marco's eyes.

Alma prepared to hear Marco shout at them, but his voice was calm. "Where were you two last night?"

Alma's words caught in her throat.

"We went stargazing and lost track of time." Angelo answered. His voice did not waver or raise in pitch. Alma snuck a peek at Angelo. He had no pursed lips and kept his eyes locked with Marco's. However, he blinked rapidly and there were subtle twitches in his hand. He can never fully sell a lie can he.

Marco shifted his attention to Alma. "Is that true Alma?"

Fear poked at her insides, forcing her to straighten back. "Y-yes. We went out late and ended up falling asleep on one of the park benches. I'm really sorry zio. It won't happen again."

"Y-yeah. We'll m-make sure to ask next time." Angelo stammered over his words.

Marco sighed through his nose and tapped his finger on the table. "You two not asking is the first problem. Can one of you tell me what the second one is?"

Alma rocked on her feet and said, "We were out late."

"Exactly. Didn't you two think about the dangers of sneaking out so late at night? You guys could've gotten hurt. I love this city, but it's not the safest one. Alma, I'll let you get off easy since this your first time getting in trouble. You're on cleaning duty in the kitchen for the next two weeks." He pointed a finger at Angelo. "You on the other hand, have to clean the grease trap for the rest of the month."

Angelo's face blanched. "I will take two weeks of being grounded if it means I don't have to clean that thing."

Marco shook his head. "You should have thought about that before you snuck out last night."

Angelo clasped his hands together and whined, "Daddy please."

"You're too old to call me that and think it will work."

"It was worth a shot."

Marco motioned with his finger for Alma to come sit at the table. She dragged the chair out and sat down. "School is gonna be starting in about a month. I already started the registration process for you to attend Angelo's old middle school. I also went ahead and signed up Miguel for kindergarten."

Alma's eyes widened. "But I wanted to work. That way I could pay for-"

Marco held up a hand. "School ends around one in the afternoon. That's enough time to do your homework and work. And before you say anything, I already talked to Sofia. She picked up your siblings by the way since you running late. She said she is completely fine with babysitting them while you go to school and work. And because she really likes you, we get a 70 percent discount off of her regular pricing."

"She agreed to do all of that!" Alma exclaimed.

"She did. Make sure to thank her."

"Nothing I wouldn't expect from my future wife." Angelo said, taking a seat at the table.

"That grease trap is your future wife. Go take care of her and make her feel pretty." Marco retorted.

"I have to start now?"

"Yes, now go."

Angelo sucked his teeth and trudged to the kitchen. He sneered at Marco on his way inside. A hearty laugh bellowed from Marco's stomach. He calmed down and spoke. "I think you have some questions and info for me Alma."

Alma clutched her pants, the fabric bunching in her hands. "I don't think so."

Marco's eyebrows rose and his lip peaked into a half-smile. He crossed his arms over his chest, sticking his neck out. "Don't you think I heard Angelo rummaging through the kitchen? Or noticed the missing first aid kit. You two did more than stargaze last night. Now, who did you guys patch up."

Alma dipped her head and muttered. "Bruno."

"Bruno who?"

"Bruno Buccellati."

Marco leaned back in his chair, the legs scratching the floor. "Is he alright?"

"Yeah. He's just bruised really badly." Alma stated.

Her and Marco said nothing to each other for a few seconds. Marco broke the silence. "I'm going to assume you found out I pay protection fees to his organization."

"I did. But I'm not upset about it. Dad used to take care of people the same way."

"I see you found out about that too. I suspected you would one day."

"Marco. Will you tell me about how you and Dad met?"

Marco stood up from his chair to reach out to Alma. He ruffled her hair and told her, "Not today. That's a long story to unpack. But for now, I need to whip something up for you and your little mafia boyfriend."

Alma blushed. "He is not my boyfriend. We just became friends."

"Oh please. It's bound to happen. Angelo told me about how you were flirting with him on the job."

Alma pouted. "It was not flirting. We were just talking."

"Hmph, sure." Marco said, giving her a side eye.

Alma followed him into the kitchen. Marco grabbed a pan from one of the racks hanging above the sink. He put it on the stove and threw in some sausages and butter. The sizzle from the pan made Alma's stomach rumble. She pulled out two tupperware bowls and filled them with bread rolls and jam. Marco diced the meat and poured equal amounts into the bowls. He clamped his hand onto Alma's shoulder. "Bad people can do good things. And good people can do bad things. I think everyone is a mix in the middle. But some lean towards one spectrum more than the other. Make sure the people you surround yourself with never make you question where they are on that spectrum."

Alma spoke in a meek voice. "When a good person does a bad thing, can they really still be a good person? What if what they did was unredeemable? Does that make the bad person who did a good deed better than them?"

"Are you talking about Buccellati, Capra or yourself?"

Alma lowered her head. Guilt, regret, anxiety, and fear clawed the back of her mind. They were emotions Alma attempted to rid herself of since she came to Naples, but Marco's words brought up memories of Dino and her ability that revived these feelings.

Marco tightened his grip on her shoulder while stroking his chin. "The decisions you make throughout the rest of your life will determine the answer to that question."

"Thank you, Marco."

"Anytime."

Alma stuffed the bowls and some napkins into a plastic bag and left the restaurant. She jogged to the treehouse.

When Alma arrived at the treehouse, she placed the bag on the ground to catch her breath. She took several deep breaths before hiking up the ladder with the bag of food hanging around her wrist. She hauled herself through the already opened hatch door. Alma stifled a giggle when she looked at Bruno. He was sitting on the floor with hundreds of puzzle pieces surrounding him. He frowned at the two pieces in his hands that refused to connect.

"I didn't actually think you would try to put the puzzle together." Alma said, freeing her laugh.

Bruno broke his concentration to snap his head at her. Pink dusted his cheeks. "I was bored, and you mentioned the puzzle. So I thought, ''Why not give not try it." What I didn't expect was for the puzzle to be 500 pieces."

"Yeah. I don't know what me and Angelo's younger selves were thinking. There was no way we were gonna solve that thing."

Alma plopped down on the bean bag chair close to him. It squished under her weight. She opened the bag and handed Bruno a bowl. He thanked her as he took the warm bowl out her hands. He removed the covering and popped one of the sausages in his mouth. He hummed in delight. Alma spread jam on a bread roll and bit into it. The sweetness from the apple jam worked wonders with the fluffy, delectable bread. Alma devoured half of it. She coated another roll with the jam. She passed it to Bruno's. He sniffed the bread and raised an eyebrow. "What kind of jam is this?"

Alma covered her mouth. "Apple." Her answer was muffled from the food she was chewing on. Bruno pursed his lips and gave her back the bread. "I don't like apples."

"You don't like apples?" Alma asked in disbelief.

"No. The skin gets stuck in your teeth and the texture makes it feel like your chewing on it forever. And it's hardly sweet. They kinda taste like water."

"They're not the best fruit, but I wouldn't say all that. Plus, apples are sweet. Especially when you get a really good one. The fruit that's really gross though are kiwis."

A hand flew up to Bruno's chest. "How can you hate kiwis? They are so good."

Alma's lip twisted in disgust. "They feel like someone's hairy leg and they're sour." Alma shuddered as imaginary kiwi juice attacked her tongue.

"I guess you feel the same about coconuts since they're hairy." Bruno said.

"The only good thing about coconuts is the water. Coconut water is heavenly."

"The water kinda tastes like corn juice to me."

"I don't think this friendship is gonna work." Alma joked.

Bruno's shoulders heaved in laughter. Alma snickered into her hand. They calmed down and ate the rest of their food.

Alma gathered their dirty bowls and pushed them to the side. As she did this, she talked to Bruno. "I have to go back to school in about a month."

"Oh. I hope you enjoy your time there." Bruno's voice was quiet.

Alma regretted letting the words leave her mouth. "I guess with your lifestyle you don't get to go to school at all."

"My dad was a fisherman so we lived in a small fishing town. There weren't a lot of kids in my area so we really didn't have much of a school. My parents taught me to read and some of the basics. I mostly just taught myself what I could. I'm not ashamed about it or anything. I do wish I got the chance to go sometimes."

Alma clapped her hands together then leaned forward. "I can loan you my school books if you want. And teach you what we're learning in class. In our free time of course."

Shock struck Bruno's face. "Are you sure? I don't want to take up your time."

"As long as you don't mind my siblings being in the room, I don't mind. We can meet up here on Sundays."

Bruno gaze hovered to the side. "I can't guarantee I can see you every Sunday. Or every week."

Alma's smile faltered. She pulled her knees up to her chest and asked, "When are you going to go see Capra?"

Bruno hesitated. "I have to report to him tonight."

Alma wiped away her disappointment. She needed to accept his unpredictable schedule for their friendship to work. "Well, that doesn't mean we can't have meet up at all. " Alma plucked a red puzzle piece off the floor. "Whenever you're free, just leave this on your usual table in the restaurant. That way, I'll know when you have free time."

Bruno chuckled. "You know I could probably just call your place."

"It's more fun this way. It makes this place really feel like a secret base."

Bruno shook his head in defeat. "Fine. Puzzle piece it is. But I do wanna try to solve this puzzle."

The two of them grinned at each other and started stringing the cardboard pieces together.

Alma balanced working and caring for her sibling within a few months. In the beginning, school was a challenge to Alma, but she gained her bearings.

The school bell chimed, alerting the students the day had ended. Alma slung her bag over her shoulder and rushed out of class. She maneuvered through students with ease and ducked to avoid flying papers. Classmates called out to her as she darted down the hallway.

"Yo Alma, slow down you're gonna run someone over!"

"You should drop art and pick up track!"

"Alma you should hang out with us today!"

"Sorry, I don't have time! Gotta watch my siblings! Also, art is so much more fun than running!" Alma yelled. She leapt through the exit of the school building. She made a sharp turn and sprinted two blocks to the elementary school near her school. She slowed down to a jogging pace to enter the school yard. A male teacher holding Miguel's hand pointed at her. She waved at them. Miguel let go of his teacher's hand to run into her arms. She scooped him up, spinning him around.

"How was your day Miguel?"

He waved a drawing in his hand as he spoke. "I drew you today."

"You did? Let me see." Alma took the picture from his hand. There were blue blobs everywhere with a black stick figure in the middle wearing a triangular dress.

"This is so cute Miguel. I love it."

"Maybe I'll get as good as you one day." He chimed.

"Maybe you will." Alma kissed his cheek and put him on the ground. She interlocked her hand with his. They strolled through the streets to get to Sofia and Giuseppe's house.

When they arrived, Alma pressed their doorbell three times. It rang with a jingle. The door swung open, revealing Sofia in a black sports bra and green sweatpants. She held Isabella in one arm and Emilio's hand in another. Isabella extended her arms, making grabbing motions at Alma.

"ALMA!" Emilio screamed, throwing his free hand in the air.

Alma copied him. "Emilio!" He thrusted himself onto her leg. She ruffled his hair.

Sofia beamed at her. "Come inside. Our show is on."

Alma's made an exaggerated gasp. "Daria is on. I wish I could, but I have to meet up with someone."

A sly smirk crept onto Sofia's face. "I just pulled cookies out of the oven. Their chocolate chip too. No boy is sweeter than my cookies. And you're gonna make Giuseppe jealous." Sophia poked fun at Giuseppe all the time for his growing crush on Alma. She made it a sport to make him blush as much as possible every time Alma came over their house. Manzo was her main partner in crime in embarrassing her brother.

Alma rolled her eyes. "You're tempting me Sophia. I'm not gonna fall for it. Plus, as fun as it is to tease Giuseppe, I don't see him that way."

Sophia's smirk widened. "Hhmm. What about the boy you're meeting? You didn't say you didn't see him that way."

Alma flushed and pinched her fingers together, leaving a small gap between them. "A little. And I mean just a little. But thanks Sophie. Tell Giuseppe I said hi."

Sophia gave her a one-over before turning behind her to yell. "Giuseppe, Alma dijo hola!"

Alma discovered that Sophia and Giuseppe had a Hispanic background after Sophia showed her pictures from her quinceanera.

Giuseppe's heavy steps resonated through the house. He stopped at the top of the stairs and shouted. "Hey Alma!"

Alma used her whole arm to wave at him. Sophia went inside the house for a few moments. She returned with Isabella in her car seat. Alma grabbed her from Sophia's hands and carried the seat with her elbow. She let go of Miguel's hands to hold onto Emilio's. Alma and her siblings exchanged goodbyes with Sophia and Giuseppe. Emilio and Miguel continued waving as they headed for the treehouse.

Alma placed her siblings inside the wooden box. She tugged the string and yelled out to Bruno. "You can pull it up now!"

"Alright!" He replied. Alma went up the ladder. She strode over to Bruno to help her siblings climb out of the box. As soon as their feet touched the floor, they clung to Bruno's legs.

"Hi Buccellati!" They said in unison. Bruno rubbed their backs, smiling at them. Alma's heart fluttered at her brothers. She placed Isabella's car seat on the floor, taking her out to let her crawl. Emilio and Miguel ran off to play with the toys in the corner of the room. Alma dropped her bookbag and sat down on a beanbag. Bruno took the beanbag opposite of her.

"I almost didn't find it this morning." Alma said, tossing the puzzle piece to Bruno. He caught it with one hand.

"My bad. I left it in the chair. You wanna pick up where we left off last week."

Alma pulled a literature textbook out of her bag. She flipped to a story about a peddler traveling with his son. She slid closer to Bruno and pointed at the text. "I don't understand the importance of the snake they meet on their journey." Bruno skimmed the passage. Alma stared at him, waiting for an answer. Bruno soaked up all the information Alma passed on to him like a sponge. He was able to understand most her school work, proving he did not need a classroom. She envied his intellect. Especially his skills in literature.

"The snake is meant to teach why we shouldn't judge others for their appearances. It's also shows why everything you're taught isn't necessarily correct."

Alma's scratched her head. "I don't understand."

"The peddler and his son didn't trust the snake when he gave them directions because he was a snake. They were taught that serpents were evil creatures that would try to trick you or kill you. But when they did the opposite of what he said, they got lost. It showed that the snake was right. They judged him for what he was rather than who was."

Alma's mouth formed onto an o shape. "Now I get it. But I don't think I'll ever get the hang of literature the way you do. I focus too much on the story's plot and not the bigger picture."

"You say that, but you still have a good grade in the class." Bruno stated.

"That's only because you're helping me."

Bruno nudged her shoulder with his own. "Give yourself some credit. You got a good head on your shoulders."

"If you say so. I don't know how I'm gonna do on the test tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Hm." Bruno put his hand under his chin.

"Something going on with you tomorrow?" Alma asked.

"My birthday."

Alma slapped her hands against her cheeks. "Your birthday is tomorrow and you're just now telling me! How old are you tuning!"

"I'm turning fourteen. It's not a big deal to me."

Alma threw her hands into the air. "Of course you don't think it's a big deal. I at least would have liked to get you something."

Bruno opened his mouth to speak but paused. He pointed behind Alma. She whipped her around and gasped. Isabella was taking her first steps. She waddled to them, almost tripping over her feet. Alma clapped at Isabella to get her to walk to her. Isabella fell to her knees and crawled the rest of the way into Alma's lap. Bruno and Alma cooed praises at her. Miguel and Emilio came up to them awestrucked. Isabella giggled and babbled at them.

Images of watching Miguel and Emilio's first steps with her mother flashed into Alma's mind. The absence of her mother at this moment caused guilt to arise in her. But as she gazed at the happy faces surrounding her, warmth enveloped Alma. She pushed down the guilt, refusing to let it ruin this moment. Alma blinked a few times, taking a mental picture of the scene. She wanted to recreate it with her pencil.

"I'll allow Isabella's first steps to count as a present." Bruno said.

Alma faced him. "Absolutely not. I'll have a present for you. Meet me back here tomorrow tonight."

On her way to the treehouse, Alma ran into Bruno. She threw her arms around him. He stumbled backwards. "Happy Birthday Bruno!"

"Thank you, Alma. How did your test go?"

"I think it went well. But enough about that. I have to show you your present." She clutched his hand and dragged him through the woods. He questioned her when they passed the treehouse. "Aren't we going inside?"

"No. We're going somewhere a little more special." Alma led him to where Angelo brought her stargazing. They laid on the ground and stared at the stars. She glimpsed at Bruno. The twinkle in his eyes were on par with the stars.

"I never went stargazing before." Bruno admitted.

"And you call yourself a fisherman's son." Alma snorted.

Bruno smacked his teeth. "We were focused on catching fish, not stars. But the stars are very beautiful."

"You wanna learn how to read a constellation?"

"You know how to do that?" Bruno asked, shocked.

Alma hummed in confirmation. "Think of the sky as a map. You know where continents are. And from the continents, you can point out countries, states, and cities. Constellations work the same way. For example." She pointed at three bright, blue stars lined in a row. "Those stars are part of Orion. If you look closely, you'll find Betelgeuse on his shoulder and Rigel on his foot. You'll also find his hunting dogs too." Passion surged through Alma's body. She wanted to leap into the sky and experience the mythical journeys for herself. She talked Bruno's ear off about constellations. But he did not complain once. He listened to her intently.

After Alma finished her spill, they viewed the stars in comfortable silence. Bruno sat up and cleared his throat. "There's something else I really want for my birthday."

Alma turned to him. "What is it?"

"I want you to meet my dad."

Alma was at a loss of words. Bruno transformed when he talked about his father. His stories about him were endless, and a grin would be plastered on his face the entire time. But Bruno never hinted at wanting her to meet him.

"Are you sure you want meet your dad?"

"I wouldn't want anyone else to."

A crimson blush spread across Alma's cheeks. Bruno flirted with her as a joke every now and then. But his voice was filled with conviction in that statement. She wanted him to say things like this to her more often. Bruno got up from his sitting position. Alma stretched her hands out in front of her. Bruno grasped them, pulling her up to her feet.

They left the treehouse and walked to the hospital. The automated doors of the hospital slid open. They stepped inside and went up to the receptionist desk. "May we see Paolo Buccellati." Bruno asked the nurse.

She scanned the patient list. "Ah. Mr. Buccellati is in room 109."

"Thank you."

Alma followed Bruno down the hallway. The hall smelled of antiseptics and strong cleaning solutions. A smell Alma was accustomed to.

They stopped in front of the door to room 109. Alma rubbed her palms on her pants. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. The questions in Alma head were ones a woman would ask herself when meeting her in-laws. What if he doesn't like me? What if he thinks I'm weird and a bad friend for his son?

She was yanked from her thoughts at the clicking of the doorknob. They wandered into the room. Alma rubbed her hands on her pants again. She sucked in a breath. Bruno's father was hooked up to a breathing machine. He was fast asleep with a peaceful expression on his face. Bruno mentioned to her that he never fully recovered from his injuries. The yearning to use her ability pestered her. She distracted herself from her thoughts by examining Mr. Buccellati's face. Him and Bruno shared similar facial features but that was all. She assumed he got the rest of his looks from his mother.

"I was hoping he would be awake to talk. I guess we came too late." Bruno whispered.

"It's fine. He needs his rest." Alma glimpsed at him. Bruno clutched his elbow. He looked like he wanted to cry but was holding himself back. He could talk about how much he loved his father all day, but his condition tore him apart. Alma wanted to pull him into her arms. She wanted to block out his negative thoughts. She wanted to give him a normal life. She wanted to help his father.

"I need to go to the bathroom." Bruno walked past her, hanging his head.

"Take your time." Alma responded. The door closed behind him. I can't use it. I promised. Alma repeated the words like a mantra. It did not work. Alma fed her into her urge to do something for Bruno's father. I'm sorry Marco. I'm sorry Angelo. I'm sorry Doc.

She looked over her shoulder. She called out her ability, "Lost Boy." A pair of gloves manifested on Alma's hands. The gloves were white with green lines running down all the fingers. The same pattern was on the inside of the gloves but attached to a protruding green circle on the palms. Alma hovered her palms over Mr. Buccellati's midsection. A green orb stretched from his chest to the end of his stomach. Alma could not make it extend any further. A bright light shined inside the orb. "I can only do enough to make you feel a little better." Alma whispered.

The ability allowed Alma to reconstruct and destruct matter. When used on humans, Lost Boy reconstructs the damaged cells, speeding up cellular regeneration to restore bodies to their original state. It was this ability that saved lives. It was this ability that helped ruin her life in Sicily.

Alma concentrated on each bullet wound, undoing some of the complications. The doorknob clicked again. Alma's shoulders jerked. She swiftly undid her ability and collected herself. I worked on two bullet wounds. That should be enough to make him feel a little better.

Bruno entered the room and stood next to her. The AC blowing and beeping of medical equipment were the only sounds in the room.

Alma fidgeted and twirled her thumbs. "Hey Bruno. I have one more present for you."

"What is it?"

With a burst of confidence, Alma pressed a kiss on his cheek. Bruno rubbed his cheek, blushing. He hugged her and whispered in her ear, "Thank you, Alma."

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Dino shoved all his belongings off his desk. Papers scattered across the room and pens clattered to the floor. A thick vein pulsed on his forehead.

A03 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27097780/chapters/70697934

Alrighty then. Quite the first panel to a manga.