48
Manneken Pis
Everything moved too quickly to process. Watching the only someone you love falling from a great height and not being able to catch her—like his bullet-ridden parachute, as the hard ground hurried toward him, rendering him powerless.
The weaving car screeched to a stop at an angle, blocking the narrow road.
The taxi was not going anywhere.
The car door opened, and Pietro’s heart stopped dead.
Tap Tap stumbled out of the car, drunk. Pietro watched as Julian physically pulled himself together before he teetered toward the taxi like a tightrope walker.
Each uneven step closer to the taxi elevated Pietro’s heartbeat.
Tap Tap pounded on Sanjay’s window with his fist. Pietro could imagine the timid chap’s fear. And Iris! Oh God, his Iris. What to do?
The driver’s window
