Chapter 209

Chapter 209
AUTHOR'S POV

Angelo sat in the chair beside his mother's bed watching her breathe. Each breath came slower now, more labored, like her body was forgetting how to do even that basic function. They had called him out of school three hours ago saying he needed to come quickly.

His mother was dying.

He'd known this day was coming. Had watched her decline over the past six months, watched her fade from the woman who raised him into someone he barely recognized. But knowing didn't make it easier.

Don Luca stood by the window with Kiera beside him. Emilio sat in the corner, his face drawn and pale. They'd all come when the nurse called, all gathered to watch Allegra take her last breaths.

But Angelo was the one holding her hand. He was the one sitting close enough to feel the heat leaving her body. He was the one who would be here when she finally let go.

"Mama?" His voice came out quiet. "Can you hear me?"

Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glassy. She looked at him without recognition.

"I'm cold." Her voice was barely a whisper.

Angelo pulled the blanket higher around her shoulders. "Is that better?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes again. "Thank you."

"Mama, it's me. It's Angelo."

She didn't respond. The nurse had warned him that she was mostly unconscious now, drifting in and out, unlikely to have any more lucid moments. This was the end.

Angelo's chest felt too tight. He couldn't get enough air. His mother was dying and there was nothing he could do to stop it, no way to fix this, no strategy or training that would save her.

He was thirteen years old and he was about to become completely alone in the world.

"I love you, Mama." His voice cracked. "I love you so much."

Her fingers twitched in his hand and her lips moved but no sound came out.

Angelo leaned closer. "What? What are you trying to say?"

"Angelo." The word was so faint he almost missed it. "My baby."

His vision blurred with tears. "Yes, I'm here. I'm right here."

"I'm sorry." Her breathing hitched. "I'm sorry I forgot you."

"It's okay, it's not your fault."

"I tried to remember, I tried so hard." A tear slipped down her cheek. "But everything kept slipping away."

Angelo pressed his forehead against their joined hands. "I know you tried. You don't have to apologize."

"Take care of yourself." Her voice was getting weaker. "Be strong."

"I will mama please hang in there”.

"Your father would be so proud of you." She squeezed his hand with what little strength she had left. "I'm proud of you."

The words shattered something inside him. "Please don't go. Please don't leave me."

"I don't want to go." Her breathing was becoming more irregular. "But I'm so tired, baby. I'm so tired."

"Then rest. I'll be right here when you wake up."

"I love you." She said it clearly, with certainty. "My beautiful boy. I love you so much."

"I love you too, Mama." He replied, kissing her forehead.

Her eyes closed and her breathing slowed even more. Angelo watched her chest rise and fall, rise and fall, each breath a little shallower, a little further apart.

Kiera moved closer and put her hand on Angelo's shoulder but he barely felt it. His entire world had narrowed to his mother's face, to the sound of her breathing, to the feeling of her hand in his.

Minutes passed. The room was silent except for the quiet beep of the monitors and his mother's labored breathing.

Then the breathing changed. Became rattling and wet. The nurse stepped forward.

"It won't be long now."

Angelo wanted to scream at her to leave, to take her clinical observations and get out, but he couldn't make his voice work. All he could do was hold his mother's hand and watch her die.

Her chest rose one more time. Fell. Rose again but barely. Fell and didn't rise again.

The monitors started beeping. The nurse moved to turn them off and the sudden silence was deafening.

Angelo stared at his mother's still face waiting for her to breathe, waiting for her chest to move, waiting for something that would never come.

"She's gone." The nurse's voice was gentle. "I'm so sorry."

Gone. The word didn't make sense. His mother was right here, right in front of him. She couldn't be gone.

But her hand was already cooling in his. Her face was peaceful and empty. Whatever made her his mother, whatever spark of life and love and memory, it was gone.

"Angelo." Kiera's voice was thick with tears. "Sweetheart, you need to let go now."

He looked down at their joined hands. His mother's fingers were limp and lifeless. He should let go. Should stand up and walk away.

But he couldn't make himself release her. If he let go, it was real. If he let go, she was truly gone.

"Angelo, please." Emilio was beside him now. "Come on, kid."

"She's cold." Angelo's voice came out broken. "She said she was cold and I didn't warm her up enough."

"You did everything you could."

"It wasn't enough. Nothing I did was enough."

Emilio gently pried Angelo's fingers from his mother's hand. Angelo let him, let himself be pulled away from the bed, let Emilio guide him to the corner of the room.

The nurse was doing things to his mother's body, covering her face with the sheet, preparing her for whatever came next. Angelo watched it all through a fog of numbness.

This wasn't real. This couldn't be real.

"I want to stay with her." His voice sounded strange to his own ears. "I don't want to leave her alone."

"We'll come back." Emilio's arm was around his shoulders. "But right now you need to get out of this room."

"No!."

"Yes." Emilio's voice was firm but gentle. "Come on. Let's go outside."

Angelo let himself be led out of the guest house into the cool evening air. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. His mother had died and the world kept turning like nothing had happened.

Don Luca and Kiera followed them out. They stood there in silence, four people who didn't know what to say, who couldn't find words big enough for this moment.

Angelo's legs gave out and he sat down hard on the grass. Emilio sat beside him, still holding onto his shoulder.

"She's really gone." The words came out flat.

"Yes and I'm sorry."

"I'm alone now."

"No." Emilio's grip tightened. "You're not alone. You have me, you have Don Luca and Kiera, you have the twins."

"It's not the same."

"I know it's not the same. But you're not alone."

Angelo pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He felt hollow inside, like everything that made him human had been scooped out and replaced with nothing.

His father was dead. His mother was dead. He was thirteen years old and an orphan.

The tears finally came. Not gentle tears, not quiet tears, but huge gasping sobs that tore out of his chest and left him shaking. He buried his face in his knees and cried for everything he'd lost.

Emilio pulled him close and Angelo didn't fight it. Let himself be held while he fell apart. Let himself be weak just this once because he had nothing left to be strong for.

Kiera was crying too. He could hear her trying to muffle the sound. Don Luca was silent but when Angelo looked up, he saw tears on the man's face.

They sat there on the grass as the sun set and the sky turned dark. Angelo cried until his throat was raw, until his eyes burned, until he had no tears left to give.

Finally he pulled away from Emilio and wiped his face with his sleeve. His whole body felt heavy and empty at the same time.

He looked back at the guest house where his mother's body still lay under that white sheet. "I don't want a funeral."

Everyone turned to look at him.

"What?" Kiera's voice was soft with confusion.

"I don't want a funeral with people who didn't know her, who didn't care about her when she was alive, standing around pretending to be sad." His voice was getting stronger, harder. "I don't want speeches from priests who never met her. I don't want any of it."

"Angelo, your mother deserves to be honored." Don Luca stepped closer.

"Then I'll honor her my own way." Angelo stood up, his legs shaky but holding. "Just me and Emilio. No one else."

"That's not how these things work."

"I don't care how these things work." Angelo's hands clenched into fists. "She was my mother. She's the only family I had left. And I'll say goodbye to her however I want."

Don Luca opened his mouth to argue but Kiera put her hand on his arm and shook her head.

"Okay." She looked at Angelo with red-rimmed eyes. "However you want to do this, we'll support you."

Angelo nodded once and turned back toward the guest house. He walked inside alone, past the nurse who was cleaning up, straight to his mother's bedside.

He pulled the sheet back from her face and looked at her one last time. She looked peaceful now, all the pain and confusion finally gone from her features.

"I'm going to make them pay." His voice was quiet but hard as steel. "Everyone who hurt you, everyone who contributed to this, everyone who could have helped but didn't. I'm going to make them all pay."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead one last time.

"I promise you, Mama. I'm going to burn their whole world down."

Then he covered her face again and walked out without looking back.

Outside, Emilio was waiting for him. The others had gone back to the main house, giving him space.

"You okay, kid?"

Angelo looked at him with eyes that were completely dry now, completely cold.

"No. But I will be."

"What are you thinking about right now?"

Angelo turned to look at the main house in the distance, at the estate that had never felt like home, at the family that had tried to replace what he'd lost.

"I'm thinking that I'm done being the broken kid everyone feels sorry for." His voice was ice. "I'm thinking that it's time to become something else."

"What's that?"

Angelo's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"Dangerous.”