MIA
Balloons bobbed against the fluorescent lights of the campaign office. A handmade Happy Birthday sign hung on one of the walls. On the table in front of me sat a paper plate with a slice of untouched confetti cake.
We were here for someone’s birthday. Whose? I had no idea. An email had told me to show up, so here I was. The Uber ride from my apartment had been a blur. My body had arrived where it was supposed to be. But my mind?
My mind was elsewhere.
When I got home last night, I poured myself a generous glass of red wine and sat on the sofa in the dark silence of my apartment, turning everything over.
At first, my thoughts were doused with doubt and insecurity.
Had I fooled myself into believing Romolo felt something real for me?
No. I knew deep in my heart I hadn’t.
If I’d learned anything about Rom in the last few weeks, it was that he didn’t show you how he felt with his words.
He did it with his actions.
The way he lost it when he thought I was seriously ill. The warmth in his gaze when he’d cup my cheek and say things like, “You’ll be the death of me, Berry.” The fact that he took my lip gloss and apparently carried it around for nearly two months.
Even when he’d pushed me away, he worried about ruining my life… He was trying to protect me from what he saw as the biggest danger of all—himself.
The clues had been there. All I’d done was piece them together.
He cared for me. And God, I wanted to scream at him for making me hurt, as much as I wanted to comfort him for everything he’d been through. If only he’d let me help him chase his demons away. If only he’d been willing to try.
A part of me wished I’d been brave enough to tell him how I felt, but another part was relieved that I hadn’t.
I couldn’t say it to him and not hear it back. It would destroy me.
My gaze found my father, standing by the watercooler, talking to one of the staffers.
It killed me when I’d say those two words to him at the end of our weekly phone call when I was at boarding school, and he’d just say goodbye. Every time, it left me guessing where I stood with him and my stepmom.
When I was younger, I looked a lot like my mom. For a while, I’d wondered if that was why Aris never warmed up to me, or why Dad pulled away the way he did. But my face changed as I got older, and by the time I was fourteen, I didn’t resemble her as much anymore.
So then I started to worry if it was something deeper. Something within me.
Maybe I was just… not good enough.
A braver person would have asked. But I’d always been too afraid of the answer. So I tried to please everyone, and fix everything that might be wrong in hopes that one day, everything would be right.
My shoulders curved inward. It was all so exhausting.
I hadn’t been living my life the way I wanted to. I’d allowed others to set my priorities. Steer my choices. Shape me into what they needed.
You’ve been betraying yourself over and over again.
I was even doing it right now.
Across the room, Jenny was talking to some of the staffers. Their laughter grated against my nerves.
I wanted to be home, curled under a blanket, music playing in my ears to drown out my thoughts. Or even just to be with my friends. I knew they would lend a sympathetic ear even after they found out about the secret I’d been hiding from them.
I didn’t want to be here.
Yet I was.
I drew in a long, slow breath.
Maybe it was time I actually listened to myself.
My hand closed around my purse.
I’m leaving.
A weird sensation tugged on me, like someone was watching.
I scanned the room. It was my dad. He was still mid-conversation by the watercooler, but his eyes were on me.
Had he picked up on the fact that I was about to leave? The usual pang of guilt hit me, but I chose to ignore it.
I shot him a tight smile. He returned it, but it was somehow off.
Was he annoyed with me? For once, I couldn’t bring myself to care. There were more pressing things on my mind, including what I was going to tell Jenny tomorrow. According to the deadline she’d given me, I still had another day.
The way things stood, Romolo and I were over.
But I hadn’t given up yet. Maybe it was best to call him and see if we could meet one more time now that we’d both had a day to cool down.
I reached into my purse, pulling out my phone to request a car, maybe text Fabi for advice. God knew I needed it.
“Hey, guys, turn up the news!” someone shouted.
My hand was still in my purse when I looked up and froze.
A skyscraper filled the screen, smoke pouring from a blown-out window near the top.
My stomach dropped. I pressed my fingers to my lips, breath catching in my throat. If you’re a New Yorker, that kind of image isn’t just unsettling. It rips something open inside you.
“What happened?” someone yelled.
“Just listen!”
The voice of the news anchor came on. “It seems the explosion occurred on the seventy-seventh floor of 214 W 57th Street, which is a luxury condominium. Reports indicate a loud blast, though the cause remains unknown. Paramedics and police are on the scene. John, do we know whose penthouse this might be?” The anchor addressed the reporter who appeared in the frame beside him.
“It’s unconfirmed,” the man replied, the bottom of the skyscraper visible behind him. “But records show there’s one unit per floor in this building. If the explosion was in fact on the seventy-seventh floor, it might belong to Gino Ferraro, a prominent businessman in the city.”
My shock morphed into something colder. The words sank into my skin, filling my veins with ice.
No. Don’t panic.
It was unconfirmed. Even if it was Gino’s penthouse, that didn’t mean Romolo was involved.
He was fine. He had to be fine.
I needed to call him. Right now.
The room around me blurred as I stumbled into the hall. My trembling fingers rummaged through my bag, looking for the burner. I pulled up Romolo’s contact and dialed.
It rang. And rang.
No answer.
I tried again, praying that each beep would be the last one and I’d hear his voice. I’d laugh at how scared I’d been. Tell him my heart almost stopped, but it was fine now, everything was fine.
Beep. Beep. Beep. The person you are calling is—
I hung up and tried again, the swell of panic rising up my throat.
Stay calm. He’s probably just busy.
Beep. Beep. Beep. The person you are calling is not available. Please leave a message after the tone.
“Rom, I just saw the news.” My voice shook. “Please call me back. Or send a text if you’re busy. I need to know you’re okay. Please.”
My thumb tapped against the screen. I covered my face with my hands as anxious waves rolled through my body. If he was in that penthouse when the explosion happened—
No. Don’t.
I could go there. See if the first responders had more information. It was better than standing and doing nothing.
I turned and froze.
Dad and Jenny were just outside the room I’d run out of. They were watching me. Listening.
Jenny looked nervous. Dad’s expression was grim.
My pulse drummed against my ears. How long had they been there? What had they heard?
Dad took a step toward me. “I didn’t want to believe it, Mia.” His voice was low. Hard. “But it looks like I was wrong.”
I shook my head. My heartbeat was deafening. “Dad, I don’t have time for this.”
“Jenny told me everything.” Red was creeping up his neck, spreading over his face. “Romolo Ferraro? Really, Mia?”
He knew.
But none of that mattered.
Not right now.
“I have to go. I need to—”
He stepped in front of me, Jenny flanking him. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said.
There was no point in trying to fight back the panic. I couldn’t. My flight instinct kicked in, and I surged past them, clutching my phone and my purse to my chest.
The exit wasn’t far. Just around the corner. I’d be out on the street in a few seconds, and then I’d get into a cab and deal with all this later. After I found Romolo. After I was sure he was okay.
I turned and skidded to a halt. Two security guards stood by the exit.
There was nothing relaxed about their body language, but I moved toward them anyway. They weren’t going to stop me—
They stepped forward, blocking my path.
“What are you doing?” I demanded. “Let me pass.”
They didn’t budge.
I whirled around, my desperation rising. “Dad, please. Not now. I have to make sure he’s okay.”
His gaze darkened until it was pure coal. “I said, you’re not. Going. Anywhere.”
There was no reasoning with him. I turned back to the guards. “Get out of my way.”
Instead of acknowledging me, they glanced over my shoulder toward my father, as if waiting for him to issue a command.
A beat.
Then one of them moved and grabbed me by the arm.
“What are you doing?” I thrashed against his hold. “Let go of me!”
A kick to his shin made his grip loosen, and I ripped my arm away and took a step back.
My thoughts raced like wild horses. Why were the guards here instead of outside where they normally stood?
It was like they had been waiting for me.
The realization hit me all at once.
This was an ambush.
My dad had anticipated this. He’d waited to see how I’d react to the news to confirm what Jenny had told him. But in order for that to be true, he would have had to know about the explosion in advance.
The ground beneath me seemed to tilt. I felt like I was about to throw up. It was hot. So hot.
No. Not now.
My knees gave out, and I fell. And this time, there was no one there to catch me.
