silent

48

• LORENZO •

I pass Amalia a plate of food, then sit beside her on the bed. She smiles at me, but it's pained. She's been in bed all day with her dog, and I've had to refill her water bottle many times.

     She doesn't sit up, just holds her stomach. Her eyelids have drooped.

     "Amalia." I say quietly. She glances up at me. "Are you tired, baby?" I ask.

     She nods.

     I put my hands under her arms and slowly lift her up, then set her on my lap. I wrap her blankets around her and make sure she has her hot water bottle as I wrap my arms around her. I kiss her cheek and pull the plate over.

     "Here, sweetheart, eat your food." I tell her. "You haven't had anything all day."

     She frowns. Shakes her head. "I'm n-not hungry."

     "You need to eat, Lia." I say quietly. "Come on, just try a little bit."

     "My stomach hurts." She whispers.

     "I know." I reply softly. "But you need some food. Have a little bit for me, please."

She scrunches her mouth to the side and leans her back onto my chest. She holds the fork up to her mouth and eats the food off of it. I plant a kiss in her hair, then begin to run my hands through it.

"Good girl." I say, pride shining in my voice. She blushes, and my lips tilt up as she continues to eat the food. She was supposed to go to the doctors again a few days ago, however the appointment was cancelled. Still, her weight continues to concern me. She's as light as a feather.

After a minute or two, she pushes the plate away. "I can't eat anymore."

"Okay, baby. That's okay. I'm proud of you for what you did eat." I say. She looks up at me, an emotion I can't place glossing over her green eyes, and I smile at her before standing with her in my arms. I walk around to the other side of the bed before gently setting her down under the covers. I pull the duvet over her, then tuck it to her chin.

"Do you want me to get you anything?" I ask her.

"N-no thank y-you."

I smile and lean down, kissing her cheek. "Alright, I'll come check on you in a little bit."

•

My knuckles are bleeding by the time I finish.

     Daniel sits in front of me in a wooden chair, his head hanging low. He's almost unrecognisable now, with his battered face and sliced skin.

     Without warning, the metal door bursts open and Briana runs in, Pietro quick on her heels. Her eyes widen when she sees what's left of her husband—the broken shell I've cracked him into.

     "Daniel!" She exclaims, and goes to run forward, but Pietro grabs her back, his arms locking around our younger sisters waist. "Pietro! Get off!"

     "You shouldn't be here, Briana." He says lowly.

     "Fuck you!" She shouts. "I swear to God, if you don't get off of me, I'll—"