Giuseppe
She's in my arms when I wake. I make one astute observation:
"This isn't Figi."
She turns toward me, making me smile. Something else catches my eye.
"Hey," I shake her. "Where's your ring?"
She wrinkles her nose. "I dunno, look under the sheets."
I look at my own hand. "Where's my ring? Why are we in Detroit."
Something is off.
"Little one wake up. Something isnt right."
"Go fix me food, Vitale," She ccroaks tiredly.
My head pulses strangely. Images filter through my mind, making me clutch it with a groan of pain.
"Giuseppe! The plane! Hurry!"
"We're over the ocean, we need a floatation device!"
"We don't have time, we're losing altitude! Fast!"
"Giuseppe, this isn't Titanic, get your ass up here."
"Don't worry. I'll make it. I can use the backpack the parachute cam
