Chapter 2 - Say It Without Looking at Her
Isabella answered first.
“This is insulting.”
Luca didn’t turn.
“Emma?”
I stared at his tie because looking at his face felt impossible.
My room was above the garage. My paycheck covered that room, my groceries, and the payment plan from my mother’s funeral.
Losing the job meant losing everything in one afternoon.
“I stepped wrong,” I said.
“That wasn’t my question.”
“Luca,” Isabella said sharply. “You’re frightening her.”
He finally looked at her.
“Then give us some space.”
Her mouth opened.
“Go inside.”
She held his stare, waiting for him to soften.
He didn’t.
As she passed me, her shoulder brushed mine.
“Be careful,” she murmured.
It could have meant the wet path.
We both knew it didn’t.
Luca watched the terrace door close.
“Can you walk?”
“I’ve been walking.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
He called for a chair.
When the housekeeper, Mrs. Alvarez, hurried outside, I apologized for making trouble.
She crouched beside me.
“Oh, honey.”
Those two words nearly broke me.
Luca knelt far enough away that I didn’t feel trapped.
“Tell me what happened.”
I looked toward the house.
“Don’t look at her window,” he said. “Look at me.”
“She pushed me.”
His expression stayed still, but something changed in his eyes.
“On purpose?”
“Yes.”
“Did she tell you not to say anything?”
“Not exactly.”
“What did she say?”
I repeated it.
You should watch where you’re going.
Mrs. Alvarez closed her eyes.
Luca noticed that too.
He arranged for a driver to take me to urgent care and told the housekeeper to come with me.
“I can finish Bruno’s walk first.”
“No,” he said. “You can get your ankle treated.”
The doctor diagnosed a bad sprain after checking the X-rays. He gave me a brace, crutches, and instructions I should have received hours earlier.
Rest. Ice. Keep weight off it.
In the waiting room, my phone lit up.
A message from Isabella.
Under it was a photograph of my bedroom above the garage.
My closet stood open.
My clothes lay across the bed.
The message said:
People who make accusations should be sure their own hands are clean.
Mrs. Alvarez saw my face.
“What is it?”
I turned the screen toward her.
She read it once.
May you like
Then she took out her phone.
“Mr. Moretti,” she said when he answered. “Someone’s been in Emma’s room.”
