Breakfast on Tuesday

32. Frustrated girl

A week passed and the feeling in all my fingers returned except for my pinky. Dr. Valeria had discharged me three days ago, but I had stayed behind until she thought it was safe for Eli to go home as well.

Madeleine had gone home two days after the shooting and was now in France with her parents just in time for Christmas.

Eduardo hadn't been reported missing yet, but I knew it was only a matter of time before his parents noticed that something was wrong. It was Christmas eve after all.

Dante and I had rarely spoken, partly because I was still mute and because there were no words to describe the spectacle of the last couple of days, and yet every day he came into my room like clockwork to help me shower and get dressed. I knew I had to set boundaries, but I secretly enjoyed the attention.

The last time he had spoken to me for longer than a minute was to inform me about Eduardo's body.

Eduardo's body was going to show up on the street near a popular drug trafficking area, his backpack full of clan cocaine. Under no circumstances were his family to ever know what truly happened to him.

'You can't do that. Eduardo was a good person. You can't soil his name like that. He would never sell illegal drugs.' My fury and disdain were obvious in the deep, harsh lines of my handwriting.

Dante read the words slowly, his full lips tight, his eyes tracking the letters on the page from a distance. His cold heart wouldn't allow him to feel any empathy for my dead friend it seemed.

Finally, he spoke. "It's either that, or I make him disappear for good and his parents will not have a body to bury. His disappearance will also bring more heat on you, his friends. You don't want that."

Dante had also taken away our phones, including Madeleine's, and had given us new ones two days after. Since I couldn't afford to wait two days, I sent a couple of messages from a burner phone to Eva during the week to see how she was doing.

She was still really sick and I felt bad because I couldn't visit her. I lied to her and told her that I was sick as well (technically not a lie because I was sick both physically after being shot in the arm and mentally after having killed a man) and that I had a headache, sore throat, muscle ache, runny nose, and coughing.

Eva was convinced that I had caught the same flu virus that she had and I simply went along with her theory. She tried to call me and I told her that I was hoarse and speaking was simply too painful right now. I told her that I would call as soon as I rested my voice and I could speak normally again.

And of course, she asked me why I was texting her from a new number and I was forced to say that I had lost my phone.

I kept my fingers crossed that she wouldn't text our friends and then notice that their numbers had changed as well. I didn't think I would be able to lie my way out of that one.

'Can I tell my best friend about what happened?' I asked Dante on the day Eli and I were supposed to leave the hotel. I had just gotten out of the shower and he was waiting in my room to help me with my clothes.

"You cannot speak of this to anyone. No one, Carla. Not even your fucking priest. Understood?"

'NO, I DO NOT,' I scribbled in my notepad in capital letters. 'Some things do not add up and are nearly impossible to chuck up as mere coincidence.' I held the words up for him to see.

"Stick to the script, Carla. It's in place for a reason. You fell off your bike because you weren't feeling well and went back home." He squeezed a generous amount of lotion onto the palm of his hand and motioned for me to come closer.