Leone
“Shut up, Gina. This has nothing to do with that!” my father snaps.
I glance at my mother instinctively, searching for some kind of reaction—anything to break the suffocating tension. Her lips are pressed into a thin, bloodless line as she glares at him from across the room. Her eyes burn with a fury that feels volcanic, and though she doesn’t speak, the weight of her unspoken words practically sears through the air.
I lean forward slightly, my elbows resting on my knees, trying to piece together this fractured moment. My pulse quickens. “Exactly what were you both fighting about?” I ask slowly, carefully enunciating each word and gauging my father’s reaction.
My father’s jaw tightens, the muscles ticking beneath his skin as he stares hard at the fireplace. The flames reflect in
