“Tony, get the fuck back home,” Christian snaps, grabbing him by the shirt collar and hauling him towards the door. “I need you to do serious triage here – you need to go convince dad of the truth!” “Why can’t you do it!?” Tony gasps. “Because he’ll fucking shoot me on sight right now!” Christia
“Just…say as little as possible, Iris,” Nico murmurs, glancing at me. “No problem,” I reply, my answer dry. He huffs a tiny laugh at me and then steps forward, opening the door for his Don and his Donna, stepping inside. The house is quiet, but it doesn’t take long to find people. We move quic
“Iris,” Christian scolds, frowning at me. “You don’t need that. Besides, you shouldn’t mix it with the drink.” I look at my husband seriously for a moment, wondering what it is that stopped him really, when Frankie snaps the tin shut and slips it into my hand. “For later, then,” he says, speaking
Absurdly, uselessly, I spend the next few hours cleaning. It’s not like the kitchen is actually dirty – it’s clearly been cleaned within the past couple of days. But still, I find the supplies beneath the sink and get started scrubbing – putting things in order, letting my thoughts fade away as I
Ricky pulls himself up on a stool too as I clench my jaw against my tears and start to make plates for the two of them, wanting quiet desperately to do something kind for them and haunted by the fact that nothing I do can really ever put a dent in the sadness of this day. The children are quiet as w
The sobbing pauses a little, deteriorating into sniffs. “Who is it?” “It’s me. Um, it’s Iris,” I call. There’s a long pause and then a low laugh. “Fuck off, Iris.” I sigh, something about Giana’s words giving me the courage to quit being polite. I reach for the handle, twist, and push open the
“You have to eat,” I say, shrugging. “I fed the kids. They’re working their way through a gallon of ice cream now.” She laughs a little, genuinely, and then raises a hand to her mouth in surprise – like…like that’s the first time she’s done that since she found out that he’s dead. And she wasn’t a
“I’m not a monster, Iris,” Christian repeats, a little frustration coming into his voice as well. “I’m just doing what I need to in order to keep us safe.” “And do you seriously think that Giana is the threat?” I snap, turning towards him with a frown. “A woman who just lost her husband, her life,