Chapter 5 - The Boy With Dark Hair
Luca fell to his knees.
The heavy thud echoed in the quiet house. He stared at the boy, his hands trembling so violently he dropped the rosary.
“What is your name?” Luca asked, his voice barely a whisper.
“Leo,” the boy said. He took a hesitant step back, eyeing Luca warily. “My mom said a bad man was going to come make us leave because the money stopped. Are you the bad man?”
“No,” Luca choked out. Tears were streaming down his face. “I’m not a bad man. I’m… I’m Luca.”
Leo’s eyes widened. He looked from Luca to the older woman standing behind him.
Teresa was weeping silently, her hands covering her mouth.
“My mom draws pictures of a Luca,” Leo said softly.
He turned and ran back down the dark hallway.
“Wait!” Luca called out, scrambling to his feet. We followed the boy into a small back bedroom.
The walls were covered in charcoal sketches. Hundreds of them. And every single one was of Luca. Luca laughing. Luca reading. Luca looking at the ocean.
It was a shrine of memories kept alive by a woman who had been erased from the world.
“Where is your mother, Leo?” I asked gently, stepping forward so the tall men wouldn’t frighten him.
Leo pointed to a closed door across the hall.
“She’s sleeping. She sleeps a lot lately. She coughs, and then she sleeps.”
Luca didn’t wait. He crossed the hall and pushed the door open.
The room was dark, lit only by a streetlamp shining through the curtains. A slender figure lay in the bed, breathing in shallow, raspy gasps.
“Sarah,” Luca breathed.
He rushed to the bedside.
I stayed in the doorway with Leo and Teresa.
Sarah looked frail, her dark hair fanned out on the pillow. She opened her eyes slowly. When she saw Luca, she didn’t scream. She didn’t cry.
She just smiled a weak, heartbreaking smile.
“You found us,” she whispered.
“I didn’t know,” Luca sobbed, burying his face in the sheets beside her hand. “I swear to God, Sarah, they told me you were dead.”
“I know,” she coughed softly. “Michael came here three days ago. He told me the trust was empty. He told me we had to pack our things. He gave me two train tickets to nowhere.”
She weakly reached under her pillow.
She pulled out two crumpled Amtrak tickets and handed them to Luca.
But as she pulled her hand back, I saw something glittering around her wrist.
A silver medical bracelet.
“What does that say?” Luca asked, noticing it too.
Sarah looked away. “It doesn’t matter now.”
May you like
Luca read the bracelet, and the blood drained from his face again.
“Terminal,” he read aloud.
