Desiree
"How are you?" I stroke his hair.
He groans. "My chest is still on fire, but it's not bad. How are you?"
I smile, looking away."Actually, I've been trying to tell you something—"
"Guy," She gasps. "You're alright."
I draw my gun. "How dare you show your face here?"
She puts her hands up, smirking shakily.
"Hey," Giuseppe puts my hand down. "It's okay."
I glance at him briefly, looking back at her.
"Febe," he smiled. "You have terrible aim."
She shrugs. "Well, I'm sorry."
He rolls his eyes, as anger bubbles inside me. "No! No! We are not chit-chatting with your homicidal sister that almost killed you! Get out."
Febe stares at me. "Listen here, new girl. That's my brother. I've been with him for 28 years. You have no idea what we've done, what we've been through."
I paus
