Chapter 4

"How could you slip off to some crew party the night before the trial? I knew in my gut something was wrong." My father's voice trembled, the reading glasses already coming off, folding slow between his fingers. "I went out searching for you. It never once crossed my mind they'd have you locked inside the Family's own grooming grounds."

"Was it the Vitale boy? I swear on my blood, he doesn't walk away from this."

Two lifetimes I had carried the memory of burying him. Now he stood in front of me, breathing, warm, whole. It broke me. I threw myself into his arms and burst into tears.

He went still, a healer's hands hovering, unsure how to comfort his own daughter. "It's over now. Don't be afraid. Tell your father what happened."

"I'm fine," I whispered, wiping my face, forcing the calm back into my voice.

It would be so easy. One word to the right capo and Lorenzo's whole night would come crashing down, and Bianca's little celebration with it.

But that wouldn't be enough.

I wanted them to regret it for the rest of their lives.

When my mother arrived and saw the bruises, the raw scrapes on my arms, her face emptied of everything. Slowly, deliberately, she reached up and removed one earring, setting it down on the hall table with terrible care. The men near the door found reasons to be elsewhere.

But I only said, "I'm fine, Mama. I don't want to stay here anymore. I want to be sent away to run things in another city. Somewhere far. With you."

In my past life, I turned down a chance to build something of my own in a distant territory, all for Lorenzo's cheap promise. We'll get made together, side by side.

And what did that loyalty buy me? Humiliation. Betrayal. A heart in pieces.

This time, I wasn't about to stake my whole future on him keeping my initiation token safe.

I gave up the trial.

When we got home, I collapsed onto the bed and drifted in and out of sleep, haunted by the ghosts of the life before.

When I woke again, my pillow was soaked with tears.

I took a deep breath, slid the chip back into my old phone, and powered it on.

The Family's rumor network was already flooded, photos from the crew, from Lorenzo, from Bianca, everyone flaunting their night off the sanctioned grounds.

In one shot, Bianca leaned against Lorenzo's chest, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright with that coy, practiced smile. He looked soft. Indulgent.

But my eyes went to what sat behind them, the empty cans of that contraband fruit liquor stacked up in a careless pile.

They'd poured down that much? Forget the trial tomorrow. Some of them might not open their eyes at all come morning.

Someone had even posted a clip.

"Give her a kiss!" a voice hollered, and the crew roared their approval.

Lorenzo wrapped his arms around Bianca and kissed her deep, like a starving man, like he couldn't get his fill.

Nothing rose in me but disgust. I killed the video.

Then a new notification surfaced. Bianca had put up a story, set so only I could see it.

The moment I opened it, breathless little gasps spilled out of the speaker, suggestive, staged.

My stomach turned.

I didn't need to look close to know whose body was tangled with hers in the dark. It was Lorenzo.

Then her voice came, mocking, thick with false breath.

"Adriana. Lorenzo told me he loves me. He's going to make me his the moment we're both made. Why would a girl like you ever think she could stand against me?"

Then she posted a photo.

Torn paper. My initiation token, ripped into worthless shreds.

"I made him choose," she went on. "He tore your token up without a flicker of hesitation. Said it was the cleanest way to be rid of you and dodge getting sworn in beside you."

"I can't wait to see your face tomorrow. Enjoy your extra year among the young hopefuls. Congratulations in advance on staying exactly where you are~"

Even though I'd expected it, half braced for every word of it, it still hit like a punch to the gut. My chest tightened.

Three years of grinding, of proving myself in every trial they set, reduced to a pile of trash on the floor.

Just then, the phone rang out in the sitting room.

I stepped out and found my father answering, his face going stunned, his voice climbing with a doctor's urgency.

"What? One of the young ones? A hopeful set for the ceremony? Poisoned liquor? Fine. I'm coming now."

His color had drained. Sweat stood along his forehead.

When he looked up and saw me, he must have read it as fear for my crew.

He tried to steady me. "Don't worry. Might not be anyone from your circle at all. I'll go and see. And even if it is, I'll get them right in time. They won't miss the trial tomorrow."

I looked at that worried, decent face and remembered how, in my past life, I'd carried the very same worry.

That night, in the life before, I had even dragged him down to wait near the shuttle stop, just in case any of the crew turned up too far gone to stand, so he could bring them around fast enough to be sworn in.