something more

secrets at the table

Secrets at the Table

Sunday dinners at the Serrano household were loud, messy, and almost always comforting. The long oak table groaned with bowls of pasta, roasted chicken, bread still warm from the oven. Aunts argued over recipes, cousins whispered jokes, and the clink of glasses filled the air.

For Teny, it was usually a refuge, a place where the whispers of Florence Academy couldn’t reach her. But tonight, even the glow of candlelight couldn’t erase the weight on her chest.

She sat between Giulia and her mother, forcing smiles, nibbling at food she couldn’t taste. Every time she lowered her fork, her mind betrayed her, Matteo’s storm-dark eyes, Luca’s reckless grin, the ballroom whispers that still echoed in her head.

“Eat, cara,” Giulia’s mother urged. “You’ll fade away if you don’t.”

Teny nodded, but her appetite was gone.

Halfway through the meal, the front door creaked open. Giulia’s father entered, not with his usual booming laugh, but with a shadow carved into his face. He slipped his coat over the chair, his voice unusually quiet.

“News from the De Lucas,” he murmured.

The room stilled. Even the youngest cousins froze, sensing the shift.

Teny’s head snapped up.

“What about them?” Giulia’s mother asked, voice wary.

Giulia’s father sighed, pouring himself a glass of wine before answering. “Another sighting. In Milan this time. People say they saw Angelo De Luca.”

The name hit the room like a thunderclap. Matteo’s missing brother. The one everyone whispered about but no one dared mention too loudly.

Giulia leaned closer to Teny, whispering, “They said he vanished last year. Some think he’s dead. Others say…” She trailed off.

“Others say what?” Teny pressed.

“That he didn’t just disappear. That he ran.”

Teny’s pulse quickened. She remembered Matteo’s guarded silences, the way he clenched his jaw whenever someone mentioned family. She had thought his shadows were only his own, but maybe they stretched further.

Her gaze dropped to her sketchbook, lying closed beside her plate. Inside it were pages of Matteo’s face, Luca’s smirk, her own restless scribbles. But suddenly, all she could think about was the face she had never drawn, the brother no one had seen.

After dinner, as the family drifted into laughter again, Giulia tugged Teny upstairs to her room. The moment the door closed, Giulia’s voice dropped.

“You know what this means, right?”

Teny shook her head.

“It means whatever’s happening with Matteo, it’s bigger than school gossip. Bigger than dances and rumors. If Angelo really is alive…” Giulia’s eyes darkened. “Then Matteo’s not just carrying a broken heart. He’s carrying secrets. Dangerous ones.”

Teny sat on the edge of the bed, sketchbook in her lap, heart racing. For the first time, the line between curiosity and fear blurred.

Because being close to Matteo wasn’t just about love anymore.

It was about survival.