Page 44 of Silent Snowfall

“Be more careful, ragazza mia,” she tsked.

“Okay, Elf on the Shelf. We can stage them tonight.”

I took a deep breath. He was gone. That didn’t have to be a bad thing, right? People left all the time. It could be any reason, anything at all that beckoned him out of town. No big deal. Nothing was going to happen.

Except…my heart was beating double its usual pace.

The masked man was part of the mob. Business had called him away. A clammy fear spread over my skin as I took the cup from my grandmother. Just because a turf war in a criminal organization destroyed my life once upon a time didn’t mean the past was going to repeat itself.

“I was thinking we could do something with sugar cookie dough in the fridge,” my grandmother was saying in Italian. Her excitement over the Christmas tradition should have been infectious. “We can stage the Shelf Elves to look like they’re making snow angels.”

I couldn’t even focus on her joy. The vise around my chest was cinching tight as I imagined bullets and blood. I murmured in assent, finishing the last of the silverware.

“Mom!” Oli shouted, flying into the kitchen. “We vacuumed. Can we open our gifts now?”

Mat was hot on his heels. “The elves said we had to do our chores. We’re done!”

Nonna was already herding them into the living room. “Let’s see how you did.”

Smoothing the wisps of hair back into my ponytail, I absently noted that after just a few days of speaking exclusively in Italian—except for when we did our homeschool lessons—the boys were picking up on the language already.

I should have done that years ago.

Not making sure they were bilingual was another failure on my part. At least it seemed to be remedying itself.

“Here, Mom.” Mat handed me a box that was wrapped in black paper with tiny gold rosebuds.

My insides clenched. Heat spread through me at the sight. It was the same paper my naughty gifts were always wrapped with, and there was a Pavlovian response associated with it now.

Collapsing on the couch, I was grateful none of my family knew that twisted, heated secret. “Okay, open them.”

The boys didn’t need to be told twice. They tore their blue and white snowflake paper, sending pieces fluttering about the room.

“No WAY!” Mat screamed.

I winced at the high, childish note. “Matteo—”

“Mom!” Oli yelped. “Do you see this? Do you SEE THIS!”

My jaw fell slack.

Two brand new laptops. Those weren’t the kind sold in the electronics department of a superstore. They were state of the art, and as my twins yelled out the notes attached to the boxes, we quickly discovered they were loaded with the most advanced software for learning coding.

Anger sizzled down my spine.

The nerve of that man.

How? How was any parent supposed to compete with a gift like that? Nothing I could give the boys was going to shine as bright as a brand spankin’ new computer with premium software.

I stood, ready to throw my own gift in the trash. It didn’t matter what it was. I didn’t want it. And this Elf of the Shelf nonsense? It was over. We were done with it! My grandmother was going to give me the contact information for her masked intruder, and after I ripped him a new hole, I was going to forbid him from the house.

Hell, I was going to change the locks on the doors!

“Rosetta?” Nonna had her wrapping paper carefully peeled and folded, ready to be reused. “Shall we open ours together?”

My fingers cinched around the box in my hand. Small tears ripped across the elegant paper. It wasn’t heavy, so it probably wasn’t another freaking computer. But boy, oh boy, would it feel good to throw it across the room.

“Rose!” Nonna snapped her fingers in my face.