Page 6 of Blue in the Deep Blue Sea

“I just had to see my friend before I leave.”

“Alright,” the man said. “The boss said we have to be there in ten minutes, so you’d better hurry.” He ran a hand through his slicked-back hair before disappearing into the crowd in the middle of the yacht.

“Who is that guy?” I asked, grabbing Gianni by the wrist. “If you’re in trouble and need money, just say it. I’ll deal with it.”

My brows pulled together as I searched his face.

“We both know things with your father aren’t exactly great, and I can deal with this myself,” he said. “This job is the one, Oliver.” His eyes lit up. “I’ll finally have enough to send my sister to college and…” He trailed off before a small smile crept onto his face. “Enough for Isabella and me to get far away from here.”

“If you need money,” I said, reaching into the pocket of my white linen pants.

“No.” He stopped me with a shake of his head. “I can do this on my own.”

He sighed, pulled a key from his pocket, and placed it in my hand.

“Can you keep this for me?” He smacked his lips together. “I’ll come back for it in the morning.”

I nodded and slipped the key into my pocket. My whole body still swayed with the alcohol, the deck rocking beneath me or maybe it was just me.

He patted my shoulder a few more times before getting up and walking over to Dante. They laughed, clapped each other on the back like old friends.

Even drunk, I knew Dante was bad news.

My eyelids grew heavier. Instead of getting up, I rested my head against the back of the sofa and stared at the night sky. The stars blurred together as everything around me spun. Even after I closed my eyes, the world refused to stop turning.

Sleep came quickly, but it wasn’t just a dream.

It was a memory from when I was ten years old.

I woke up by myself this morning. My feet touched the wooden floor, and my chest tightened, like my body already knew something was wrong. It was so quiet, and the house was never quiet.

At first, I thought everyone had left and forgotten me, but then I remembered it was Sunday. No one worked on Sundays here.

My stomach rumbled. Mom made pancakes every Sunday, so I decided to wake her up. My parents had slept in separate rooms for a long time, and Mom’s room was close to mine. I tiptoed toward it.

The door was unlocked, and the window stood open. Chills crept over my hands and feet, while the rest of my body stayed warm beneath my pajamas.

Mom was still asleep.

I stepped closer. The lamp was still on, and there was a letter lying beneath it, but I ignored it. I walked to the bed and gently shook her shoulders, trying to wake her.

“Mommy,” I whispered. “Wake up.”

She didn’t even flinch.

Her skin felt cold beneath my fingers, and she looked paler than usual, but I didn’t give up. I wanted those pancakes so badly. No one made them like Mom.

“Mommy, Mommy,” I tried again. “Please wake up.”

She didn’t wake up.

I took two steps back from the bed and walked around to the other side. I climbed onto it and crawled toward her, then lay down on her chest. The moment my cheek touched her cold skin, I realized I couldn’t hear her heartbeat.

Something was wrong.

I gasped, scrambled off the bed, and ran through the door.

“Mommy isn’t waking up!” I shouted. “Can someone come?”