Something slammed into me from the side. I lost my balance and hit the marble floor hard, pain shooting through my wrist on impact. The bag shifted violently, and for a second I thought I’d lose it—the urn inside almost slipping free. I pulled it back against my chest just in time, holding on like my life depended on it.
“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” I shouted, voice sharp with shock.
It was Noel.
Lena’s son. Fresh out of the hospital like nothing had happened, like a simple stomach ache was enough to bring the entire world to its knees. He looked up at me with a spoiled kind of confidence, the kind kids don’t just have—they inherit.
“Why don’t you watch where you’re going, stupid?” he shot back. “What are you even doing here?”
Vincenzo’s voice cut through the air instantly.
“Noel. Enough.”
Then his attention snapped to me, colder. “Olivia, he’s just a child. Don’t make a scene out of this.”
Lena stepped in softly, like she always did—gentle voice, careful movements, practiced innocence. Her hand rested on Vincenzo’s chest as if she belonged there.
“I’m really sorry,” she said quietly. “It’s my fault again. Noel and I can just leave.”
Vincenzo’s jaw tightened. His eyes stayed fixed on me.
“No. This is on you,” he said flatly, pointing. “You’re the one causing problems.”
Something in me cracked—quietly, but deeply. The kind of break that doesn’t heal cleanly. They looked like they belonged together standing there, a unit. A family. And I was just… the leftover piece no one wanted to admit still existed.
Noel suddenly reached for my bag again, tugging at the zipper.
“I’m hungry. What’s in there? Food?”
The urn slipped.
It dropped to the floor with a heavy sound that made my stomach collapse.
“No—stop! Don’t touch that!”
He crouched anyway, curious, reaching with careless hands. “What is it?”
I shoved him back before I could think twice. Harder than I meant to. Or maybe exactly how I meant it. I didn’t care anymore. Everything I cared about was already gone.
Vincenzo exploded.
“Are you out of your mind?!” he shouted. “He just got out of the hospital! He’s sick, and you push him like that?”
Noel started crying and immediately latched onto me again, grabbing my hair and pulling hard enough to blur my vision with tears.
Through it all, I managed to speak.
“It’s Gabriel’s,” I choked out. “It’s my son’s.”