Page 8 of Unraveling Fate

“Pick you up at 5:30 tomorrow?” Again, Canon didn’t wait for her to answer. “Here, I’ll give you my number and you can text me right now, so I have yours. Would’ve been helpful yesterday,” he laughed.

Cadenza added him to her contacts and shot off a text with just her name. Canon waved and left for the showroom.

“Sacramento… Two hours each way. In the car. With Canon. That’ll be interesting.”

The garage lights flickered on as she entered, reflecting off the Berlinetta.

“Too badyoucan’t take me on a date,” Cadenza joked, tracing her fingers along the hood. She rolled the mechanic cart over to the car and tied back her hair. To work.

Starlight filteredthrough the garage’s high windows. The lot was quiet, the race crowd having long gone home. Cadenza’s stomach growled, reminding her that she’d worked through dinner. And closing time. And bedtime. She’d installed a new starter, a new alternator, checked and double checked the fuel hoses and fuses.

The Ferrari still wouldn’t start. And whatever song lived inside the car, the F12 was keeping it hidden.

“Dai, bello mio,” she scolded the car. “Why won’t you start?”

She flopped into the driver’s seat for a break and checked her email on her phone. A new one from her mom glared at her from the screen. Cadenza’s heart constricted.

Ciao, cara mia!

I have some small complications. Patrizio, one of the musicisti, has moved in with me, so you cannot stay here with me. You will need to bring money enough for living expenses. Also, the government changed some visa laws, so now you will need a Permesso di Soggiorno. I need you to send enough cash to me in advance to speed your visa approval along. $3,000 U.S. You know how things work here.

Baci,

Ilaria

“Porca miseria!” Cadenza almost threw her phone through the windshield. Tears blurred her view of the dashboard. She scrubbed them away with a growl. This wasn’t the first time she’d been shoved aside for her mother’s latest fling, but how was she supposed to come up with living expenses, let alone a $3000bribe? She didn’t even have enough for her plane fare yet.

She beat her fist on the dashboard. A lump built in her throat, and she thunked her forehead against the steering wheel, more tears spilling down her cheeks despite herself. The money, her career, the car—how was she supposed to make any of it work?

Pulse pounding, she straightened. Her eyes narrowed. The car was such a little thing compared to the rest of her life. “I will fix you,” she told the Ferrari. “And if I can fix you, I can fix everything else too.”

Teeth clenched, she threw her senses wide, searching. Alto tones drifted through the open garage door from the moon, and flute notes streamed from the scrub oaks at the side of thegarage. A deep thrum rose from the ground to mix with them both. And in the middle of the music, the Ferrari. A stubborn gap in the song.

She pushed out harder.Come on, canta per me.

The gap melted into a fog. A few notes drifted close, curious, and she lured them in. She sang them, Pied Piper-like, and the other notes came stringing along to form a whole melody.

She breathed the tune into her lungs, and in a rush the words followed, filling her throat. “Fhir a’bhàta, na ho ro eile, Fhir a’bhàta, na ho ro eile, Fhir a’bhàta, na ho ro eile, Mo shoraigh slàn leat ’s gach àit’an téid thu.”

With a start, Cadenza recognized the song. Drostan had taught it to her years ago, on one of her father’s visits. It told the tale of a woman waiting in vain for her lover’s boat to return. The Gaelic made different shapes in her mouth than Italian, and she couldn’t believe some part of her brain had remembered the lyrics, but she flowed through the rest of the song, afraid if she let it drop, she’d never get it back.

When she finished, the air in the garage hummed. New energy vibrated off the Berlinetta. Holding her breath, she turned the key one more time.Please…

A roar surged up from under the hood and settled to a purr. Cadenza whooped and did a victory dance in her seat. Eyes bright, she patted the steering wheel.

“Ok, bello mio. Let’s see what you can do.”

The lightsstill shone on the empty track. Cadenza eased the Ferrari up to the start line and revved the engine. She hit a stopwatch and the gas pedal at the same time. Tires screeched, and she smirked. First curve. The stands blurred by. Back side.Second curve. Back over the line. She hit the stopwatch again, laughing. The Ferrari slowed to a stop, engine growling as if hungry for more.

“Well done, bello. Better time than the winner today.” Cadenza pet the dashboard. The track lights glinted off the wolf on the dash. “It’s too bad Babbo isn’t here to see this. He’d love the chance to drive you.”

An ache stabbed through her. Didn’t matter how much time had passed. At moments like this, the hole left by her father’s death burned just as empty as it had right after he died. Her eyes moistened, but she didn’t fight it this time.

The leather of the wheel was warm under her hands. She couldn’t show her father the car, but maybe she could show the car her father’s favorite highway. “What do you think? Should we go?” she asked the car. It was after midnight. Highway 49 would be empty enough to let the F12 off its leash.

“Sí, sí. Andiamo.” Cadenza answered her own question and drove out of the track and up the hill to the front lot. She eased the car up to the exit. Hit the gas to turn out.

The engine’s roar cut out and the instruments went dark.