-BOOK TWO-
It's the start of the second year at university for the roommates, and things aren't looking good.
With a mountain of work threatening to drown them and a stream of suspicious behaviour from Markus' pack, it's not long before the past co...
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Acting as security guard was a lot more difficult than I'd been anticipating. For the last three weeks it had been bad enough, but the streets of Venice were always crowded and there were so many alleys and walkways and bridges that it was a wonder I managed to keep tabs on the rest of the group.
Caleb was busy looking around with wide eyes full of wonder, no doubt trying to remember where everything was. More than once, he wandered out of sight, seemingly entranced by memories, and I had to urge our group to catch up with him before he disappeared entirely. Again.
Adelyn had made a list of things for us to do today, and we each had been given a job.
Caleb acted as tour guide and translator.
I was the security guard.
Chloe was in charge of photographs.
Lyn made sure we stuck to the schedule.
Markus provided the entertainment by googling random facts and reciting them to us.
"Did you know Venice has a hundred and fifty canals?"
"I did not," I told him, herding him with the rest of the group to where Caleb was stood. "Got your bearings, yet?"
He glanced back at us and smiled, as though still not quite believing we were with him. "I think so. This is Canal Grande, I believe."
I looked out over the huge canal before us. The buildings on either side were adorned with rose baskets and flower boxes, and bunting was stretched high across the water. Several gondolas and vaporettos glided effortlessly through the water. It was beautiful.
"Impressive," I said, though that didn't really do the place justice.
"We have to go on one of those," Chloe commented, looking down at the boats. "We can't go to Venice and not get on a boat. That feels illegal."
And so, before long, we'd hired out a gondola to take us to a place called Piazza San Marco.
"Saint Mark's Square," Caleb informed us when he noticed our confusion. "It was great back in the fifties-- so I hear," He added the last bit hastily, probably thinking about our gondolier, who'd introduced himself as Riccardo in what was the most silky Italian accent I'd ever heard, expertly weaving the boat between the others.
I let my thoughts wander as we drifted down the canal.
For the last century, I felt like I'd searched the entire world for my brother, hoping that one day I'd find him or he'd come back home. When I saw him in that club last year, I think it's fair to say I lost my mind. I couldn't believe my eyes. And when he forgave me, it was like I'd ascended to paradise. Words couldn't describe how much I feared his reaction to me over the years. It had become a tormenting nightmare, and I had been torn between finding my brother safe and alive and staying away from him in case he loathed me.
