I don’t want to tell Max the whole story in the middle of the airport. There will be plenty of time during the long flight.
“Wow, small world.”
“Yeah.”
“Hmm, can’t you message him on Facebook?”
“He doesn’t have an account.”
“Okay. Email, then. You do have his email, right?”
Yeah, I do, but only his work email and most likely Alistair has been sacked.
God, what a nightmare.
“I’ll message Robbie and Phillip on Facebook and ask them to find Alistair for me.”
“You know I have no clue who those two are, right?”
“Yeah, sorry. They’re friends from school. God, Max. There’s so much I have to tell you.”
He nods. “It seems like it.”
He lends me his phone, and I quickly log into Facebook and send the guys a message. One of them is bound to find Alistair.
“Do you think the charges against Dad are real, Max?” I ask.
“I don’t know. I always liked Uncle Giovanni. He’s so different than my piece-of-shit father.”
“Dad’s innocent. I know he is,” I say with more conviction than I feel.
In fact, I’m terrified that he’s done illicit things. Besides Max, Dad is the only one in the family who has my back, who believes in me.
“Your mother wants you to stay at the penthouse,” he says.
“Why?”
“To use you as a punching bag, most likely.” I wince at Max’s words because he’s not wrong. “I told her you’re staying with me.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me, Chibi. We underdogs have to look out for one another. You were there for me when I had to deal with my father. We may not be siblings, but you’re my sister of the heart.” He throws his arm around my shoulders and kisses my head.
“Yes, you do annoy me like a big brother.” I elbow his side playfully.
Max tries his best to distract me with his crazy stories and silly jokes. It works for a little bit, until something he says reminds me of Alistair or my dad.
Once we’re on the plane, he offers me a sleeping pill. I usually hate those, but today, I don’t refuse. If I stay awake during the flight, I’ll go insane. I need to get some rest because I know it will be hell when we land.
ALISTAIR
Since the cat is out of the bag, I go back to Chiara’s apartment, not caring who sees me there. I buzz her intercom, but after the fifth attempt without an answer, I get the hint that she’s not home. I call her phone again, but now it goes to voice mail.
I don’t linger in front of her building because, with my luck, I wouldn’t put it past someone to call the cops on me.
I’m about to get into my truck when I see a familiar car approach. Phillip parks behind me and rolls his window down. I look past him, more precisely at the passenger seat, finding it empty.
“Phillip.”
“Hi, Mr. Walsh. You’re probably looking for Chiara, right?”
“Yes. She won’t answer her phone.”
“She busted it. Anyway, since you’re not on any social media network, she asked me to give you a message.”
“I’m listening.”
“She had an emergency back home. She’s probably on a plane to Italy right now.”
“What kind of emergency?”
“She didn’t say, only that her cousin is with her.”
I rub my face, frustrated as hell with the way my life is derailing. “Did she give you Max’s phone number?”
“Yes. Hold on.” Phillip turns to his side, then sticks out his hand with a folded piece of paper pinched between his fingers. “Here.”
