Page 74 of The Doctor

“No. No, not her. Or Mario and my uncle, Piero. They want what I want.”

Mic grabbed my hand, lowering it to my side. Without realizing it, I’d started scratching at my throat. As if that scratching could somehow relieve the scritching in the back of my head.

“What?”

My face pulled into a grimace. “I shouldn’t say it.”

“Say what?” Michele was on my heels as I dashed away, finally grabbing my hand and yanking me back to face him. “I want you to be honest with me too, Clara. That’s how friendships work.”

A smile tilted my lips as a warm sensation swirled in my chest. “I like you.” Mic let go of my hand so he could thrust his fingers through his hair. “No, I mean… I don’t get along with people my age very well. I can’t relate to what they find important. I’d rather hang out with people who are older.”

“I am a few years older than you.”

“Much older.”

“Like Zeno?”

That warm sensation spread for other reasons. “Kind of. Or Arik David’s wife. She’s ten years older than me.”

“Are you saying I’m too young to be your friend?”

“No!”

“Or are you trying to cover so you don’t have to tell me what had you running away?”

And there was that grimace again, doing absolutely nothing to keep the monster in my head from clawing its way right out of my mouth.

“Do you find it strange that Piero and Mario support you when the rest of your family doesn’t? Like their older brother, Raoul?”

Mic’s face fell, and he brushed past me on the sidewalk. I stayed beside him, trying to figure out how to dig myself out of this mess. When we got to the corner, he turned to look down at me.

“Why do I get the feeling you know something you shouldn’t?”

I lifted my shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. “I made Zeno make me a family tree, of sorts. I wanted a way to keep track of the Syndicate families and who belonged to whom. Can you imagine, mixing up old Vinicio Tedesco with Giraldo Pasternelo? What would the families think?”

“You’re a sneaky girl, Clara Vinci.”

“What? It was a perfectly innocent request.”

“But what really made you ask?”

Across the street, the light turned green. I grabbed Mic’s arm and tugged him along. “I don’t like secrets.” My gaze darted to him. “At least, I don’t like them kept from me.”

“So you know my family’s secret?”

A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. “It’s a big secret.”

“I wouldn’t have known myself if I hadn’t gotten Mario drunk on my twentieth birthday.”

“Ooo!” Laughter tumbled free and Mic shrugged.

“You and I have more in common than you’d think.”

“Do tell.”

“Mario realized Benito D’Angelo was his father after seeing Paulo, back when he came to the house when Mamma was pregnant with me. Paulo called him brother. He said it in a way that felt different than when guys say the same to their good friends nowadays. Mario started digging, and he eventually got Zia Ida to confess to a long-running affair.”

“She didn’t!”