Chapter 15I called Rocco immediately when I got home ten minutes later. The house was quiet and dark and shut up for the night. I was pouring a glass of apple juice and pressing my cell to my ear. “It’s me,” I said, shutting the refrigerator door with my foot just as Rocco answered and thanked me for coming for dinner. I could hear the edginess in his voice. He sounded like an agitated child talking to his long-distance friend he had not spoken to in years. I climbed the winding staircase, down the long, dim hallway, to my bedroom, my legs heavy like concrete.
My bedroom door was ajar when I reached it, and I paused, pulling the phone away from my ear, listening intently. I could hear Rocco’s voice on the other end of the phone as I peeked through the gap of my bedroom door.
After leavin
