Come back to me.
The words Alana had once said to me bubbled up from some recess of my memory as I sat there in the back of the ambulance with Molly. Alana had asked me to always come back to her, and I had. But she hadn’t returned the favor. She’d died with me right there, in a hospital surrounded by medical personnel.
Would Molly do the same?
They wheeled her into the Emergency Room, and she remained out. Her face was tear-stained, her clothing saturated with blood. My clothes were, too. There was so much I was sticky with it. I’d been covered in blood before, but such gruesomeness shouldn’t be touching her. Not ever.
Why had I let her out of my sight?
I had a wayward thought that some of that blood might’ve been her sister’s, but I didn’t think so. With three bullet wounds, most likely it was all hers.
So much of Molly’s lifeblood leaving her as rapidly as it could.
I didn’t know if the bullets had lodged themselves somewhere in her body or if they’d gone all the way through. She’d been in too much pain for me to maneuver her around and check for exit points. My eyes zeroed in on the one in her abdomen. It was bleeding the most and appeared to have done the most damage, not just to her but possibly to our…
I couldn’t go there.
A doctor came, taking her vitals and saying urgently, “Take her straight to surgery.” I would’ve followed them, I wanted to, but a modicum of my logic returned. I wasn’t a surgeon or physician of any kind. I wasn’t prepped in the special sterile scrubs they wore. If I burst my way in there, I’d put her at risk.
As they pushed her out of sight, I bent and put my hands on my knees, taking some deep breaths to keep myself together. I’d been in this place before, this godawful place where your loved one vanished behind a hospital door and didn’t come out alive again.
Someone shoved me into a nearby chair. I didn’t even resist. Slowly, I peeked up to see that it was Marco. My brothers were ranged around me like sentinels, like an honor guard or something. Like I was either their prisoner or someone too fragile to not be in their care. Both were absurd notions.
Mostly.
All four of us had beaten the shit out of each other growing up. Yet here they stood, at my side and primed to defend me. And do what was best for me. They were showing me through their actions that they had my back. Even Marco, who tended to disagree with me at every turn.
Marco with his boxer-type of physique and ready sneer still had his hand on my shoulder as if afraid I’d go hurdling into Molly’s room. He could, and did, piss me off more than Alessandro and Gabriel combined. But under all that dissension was my little brother, the one closest to me in age, and the one I’d confided in and counted on the most when we were children.
Gabriel looked the most worried. While Marco and Sandro stayed near, their glances only landed on me occasionally. Not Gabriel’s though. My half-brother watched me with unapologetic directness, as if he could somehow keep me from losing my collective shit by doing so.
Sandro stood there in his glasses, resembling a member of the Geek Squad more than a man born and raised to be a part of the Italian mafia. Yet, he could be as ruthless as any of us when the need arose.
None of us said the words, but I knew all of us were thinking it. The Varasso Curse had struck again.
They remained silent. There were no empty platitudes or offerings of false hope. An hour passed and then two. By that point, each brother had pulled up his own chair, but they stayed stationed around me, keeping me within arm’s reach as if I was a flight risk.
When I got up to go to the john, Gabriel followed as if assigned to me. When I went to wash my hands, it took me a long time. They were encrusted in blood, Molly’s blood, and I had to scrub at the skin hard to get it off. I’d just finished with that when I realized I had blood on my face, too.
Though I’d refused to think about what if scenarios, seeing the blood on my cheek seemed to trigger something. Something inside of me fractured and gave way. I propped my arms up on the sink, feeling suddenly wobbly.
What if Molly lost the baby she was carrying? Or what if Molly herself died? What would I do then?
“If Molly loses the baby, you’ll help her through it,” Gabriel said, letting me know I’d spoken out loud. “And if she dies, you’ll go on. You have Anna, and you have us. You’ll get past it eventually.”
I caught his eye in the reflection of the mirror, automatically shaking my head. “I can’t…”
“You can. You have.”
I closed my eyes as dread rolled over me, trying to knock me to the ground. “No, I can’t. I really can’t, Gabriel,” I choked out, my throat constricting.
He put a hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t borrow trouble,” he said, giving me a little bolstering shake. The saying was a favorite of our Aunt Didi’s. “We don’t know anything yet, and it does us no good to jump to conclusions.”
I nodded and took a shaky breath, knowing he was right. He didn’t say anything else.
The hours continued to pass with no news or updates, and I sat back in the waiting room, leaning my elbows on my knees. I dropped my head into my hands as the rest of my body went numb and my mind turned to mush.