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LENA I sat at the edge of our bed back at the hotel. Fiddling with my fingers as I stared at the black screen of the tv. My own reflection stared back at me with a blank expression. I didn’t even bother changing out of my dress or taking off my already ruined make up. My heart was heavy, but the dark cloud of anxiety that hung over my head was suffocating to say the least. But the silence was even worse. I felt completely alone and out of my element. Like I was outside a window staring at my own self. I wanted to scream, but I had no strength. Since we got back, Vincenzo hasn’t said a word to me. He was outside now, talking to all God knows who, so I was alone with my thoughts, thoughts that were driving me insane. But to think that after all these years, Ciro Petrakis, my father woul
- Writer
