The car moved through the Naples streets and I stared out the window and saw none of it.
My head was too loud.
It kept replaying everything in flashes, jumping between moments the way a bad dream did, not giving me time to process one thing before the next one hit.
Valentina on his lap.
That was the first flash. Her dark hair, her perfect posture, her hand on his chest like she had put it there a thousand times before. The way she had leaned close to his ear and he had let her. The way the whole picture had landed in my chest like something dropped from a height.
I had no right to feel what I felt in that moment.
I knew that.
I felt it anyway and it burned.
Then the man grabbing my wrist. That came next. The shock of it, how fast it happened, one moment I was standing there minding
