Bambina

42. Protective

"Giancarlo?" I ask, puzzled as to why he's driving me, and as to where we are heading. Raphaelle hasn't answered his call all day. I'm getting worried. 

Giancarlo just nods, his eyes focused on the road ahead. He seems tense, his grip on the steering wheel tight.

I glance out of the window, watching the world blur past in a rush of colors and shapes. 

"Where are we going?" I inquire again, hoping for a more substantial response this time.

Giancarlo sighs, finally tearing his gaze away from the road to look at me. "We're going to the hospital, to meet that brother of yours. We're hoping your relation might make him open up. Give us some answers." 

"Answers? Raphaelle's there?"

Giancarlo nods, "he's been trying to fish out answers all day. Still nothing."

My heart sinks at the thought of Raphaelle bothering Sander. He's so gruff with everyone but me. And no matter what Sander have done, he's my own flesh and blood, a piece of myself that links me to my mother. I just wish she were here. She'd have all the answers. I miss her so much.

Suddenly, Giancarlo pulls into the hospital parking lot, his eyes fixed on something in the distance. I follow his gaze, I don't see anything. 

He gets out of the car and starts walking towards the entrance, pacing fast, I have to run to keep up. Why is he in such a haste?

As we approach the entrance, I notice a small little boy, his leg covered in blood, and he's crying. The sight makes me tear up

And as we reach the hospital room where my brother is at, Raphaelle approaches me, giving Giancarlo a stern glance. "Sta piangendo. Cosa hai fatto?" 

"Sta piangendo?" Giancarlo replies, a confusion etched to his tone.

Raphaelle pulls me into his chest, fingers reaching to brush my tears away, softly. "Why are you crying?"

I sniffle, "I saw this little boy and his leg was all covered in blood. It looked painful." 

"Oh, baby," he hums, kissing my forehead, "I'm sure that little boy is fine. He's in the hospital after all."

Raphaelle's arms around me feel warm and comforting, a familiar embrace that I've missed dearly. But my mind is still swirling with worry for Sander. He looks so bad last time. Sad that I had to meet my brother in such a circumstance. 

Raphaelle's expression darkens slightly, and he glances over at Giancarlo before turning his attention back to me. "Sander's not talking. I need you to try to get him to talk. I honestly don't understand his reluctance. He's in good shape considering what he's done."

I feel a knot form in my stomach. "What he's done? Good shape? Daddy he looks... awful," I tear up again.

Raphaelle shakes his head. "Shhh. Bambina, I won't share any more details, but trust me, he's in good shape. I need to know who and why."

I glance back at Sander's room, feeling a surge of frustration and helplessness. Why does he have to be involved in this? In some strange way, I wish to go back to before I even knew he existed. Because it was easier. But at the same time I'm happy I have a chance to know him. 

"I don't wanna hurt him, bambina. I don't wanna hurt you. But I need to know why. It's important."

"Can't it wait? He's hurting."

Raphaelle looks torn, "no, baby. I'm sorry. It can't."

Raphaelle guides me into Sander's room, where he lies on the hospital bed, looking pale, bruised, and exhausted. Machines beep softly in the background, adding to the tense atmosphere. I approach his bedside, feeling bad that I'm doing this. It's not right. But there must be a reason why Raphaelle insists. Ugh. I just want my Barbies!