#Chapter 7 - The Wrong Room

Layla Silence fell in the wake of the shot. The car careened around another turn. The warm hand on my back lifted, allowing me to straighten. My pulse slammed against my eardrums as I raised my head. “Eli!” I lurched forward, but Nonna and Eli both sat, unharmed, in the front passenger seat. Both of them unharmed, upright. Calm, all things considered. Aside from the faint, coppery tang of what might have been blood, it seemed nothing had happened. But I couldn’t find any blood. Maybe it was a lingering smell. “Carlo.” Aldo towered up beside me, but his voice was that same stoic calm as he spoke to the driver. “Take us to the estate instead.” Had I imagined that shot? Maybe the scent of blood was imaginary, too. I reached into the front seat to take Eli’s hand. Somehow, he was calm, eyes dry. “Are you scared, baby?” I asked, giving his fingers a squeeze. I was sure as hell scared, but I hoped it wasn’t showing. “No.” Calm blue eyes met mine. “Being scared doesn’t help.