Promises Promises

Chapter 2

The sky blue hammock was hanging on by a thread to the last remaining tree in my mother's backyard, detached long ago from its counterpart.

When the twin maple that once held up the other side had been taken out in a lightning storm, I sometimes wondered if the surviving one ever felt the hole of its absence.

They'd spent so much time together, after all—born into the same forest, and then securing spots in the backyard of my childhood home when Mayor Sullivan developed the land.

For so long, it was the two of them. Now there was only one left.

Only one left.

As tall and sturdy as it stood, I could never be sure if the remaining maple felt the absence of their missing friend or not. But that day, I was certain of my own.

Looking down at my phone, I reread the messages between me and Dalton. They were the last we'd ever exchange, and I was content to know that at least I'd never taken them for granted.

Instead, I cherished every message from him, relieved at the end of every day when he'd let me know he made it home safe, basking in every call that wasn't from a prison. Or worse.

But bad things always happened. And last week was worse.

Dalton: The vibe here is weird. Chicago is a world away from Brighton.

Davina: How so?

Dalton: Hard to describe. People just move different and that Leone guy I told you about? I'm pretty sure no one should be trusting that piece of shit as much as they do.

Davina: I don't like the sound of that.

What I didn't say was I told you so. That would have been useless. He was already in too deep. Approved and well-liked, trusted enough to get sent on a special job in Chicago.

Within The Amato Group, Dalton was said to be as enthusiastic and bold as my father, but not nearly as careless, which made him a wonderful asset to the team. They ate him up, and he let them have every bite. Right to his own end.

At the same time as he should have been graduating Aurora University, Dalton was gunned down in a warehouse while helping secure an arms deal. It would go in the books as an accidental death at one of Amato's construction sites, a workplace tragedy that OSHA would never investigate.

My heart ached for justice, but opening my mouth about the things I knew was a death sentence of my own. I couldn't do a damn thing about it.

Dalton: Don't worry. The job is almost done and Dante is aware. We're gonna take it upward when I get home. Miss ya, sis

Davina: I miss you too.

I'd miss him for the rest of my life.

I knew he was gone the moment it happened. I think that was the worst part.

Even though it prepared me for Dante's visit, I'd never forget the dread that took over my bones and the emptiness that made my hair stand up on the back of my neck as I stood at the kitchen sink that day. Washing dishes, for crying out loud.

It was such a mundane activity, compared to what my twin was doing at the same exact moment. But then a shiver rolled up my spine and everything felt wrong, a deep sense of cold invading me like an icepick to the heart, no matter how warm the dish water was on my hands.

I looked up, out the window. At the ground below and the sky above as thoughts of outer space and the great beyond put me in a melancholy haze. I wondered what waited for us after we died, and I knew my twin wasn't earthside anymore.