Nothing happens. Opening my eyes, I peer up at her, my mind clouded. Her doll-like features are frozen in shock, her eyes vacant and cloudy as she slumps down onto her knees. Blood and matter drip down onto my chest from the gunshot wound right between her eyes.

Emerald slumps forward, her dead body lying halfway across mine. I know I’m screaming, unable to move with her body pinning me down. I hear feet shuffling.

“Greer! You cock sucker!”

The hoarseness in Royal’s voice is strained. He’s been shot.

“Dad?” I barely manage to squeak out, beginning to gurgle. The potent taste of blood sits in my mouth.

“Manny? Dad?”

Silence. A strange sensation floats through me. All I see is white, the colors slowly shifting darker until all I see is black.

***

I wake up suddenly in unknown surroundings, blinking profusely to adjust to the bright lights shining above me. I try to talk. I try to move. I can’t do either. My memory is so confused, I begin to panic.

“Calla.”

The sweet sound of my mother’s voice hugs me. I can feel her hand on top of mine.

“Sweetheart. Don’t try and move.”

Unable to move my head, my eyes search out her voice. Tears flow down her face. Her appearance is unlike her. She’s pale, and there’s a silent void in her eyes.

I need to know what happened. Where am I? Where’s Dad? Manny? Cain?

“Water,” I manage to croak out.

She brings a Styrofoam cup with a straw to my lips. I take a small sip. The coolness of the water does very little for my parched mouth.

“I know you have a lot of questions. However, I have been instructed by the doctor to keep you calm if you were to wake up before he gets back.”

Calm? Why? What happened? What is she not telling me? My lids become increasingly heavy again. I try to fight falling out of consciousness. It’s no use, my body is too weak. I drift back into the unknown where everything once again is the awful color of black.

“Mom?” I jolt awake this time. The room is dark.

“Calla, baby.” I hear him. Cain. He sounds so tired.

“Jesus, baby. You’re awake.”

“My shoulder,” I say.

“It’s fine. You’re going to be fine.” He bends and kisses me on my cheek.

“Manny?”

“He’s fine, too. Both of you have been through hell and survived.”

“My dad?” I can’t see him. It’s too dark.

“Cain?” I begin to panic.

“I’m right here, my girl.”

I lift my hand, trying to find anything for it to come in contact with for support. I feel the warmth of someone’s hand. My dad’s hand. I squeeze it. My body begins to tremble. I attempt to stifle my sobs at first, to show my strength. It’s no use. The salty tears fall down my face to my quivering lips.

“Hey, no crying. I’m here. You’re safe.”

A warm hand presses against my back. I would know that hand anywhere. Every time it touches me, I feel myself come to life. My adrenaline soars and my heart rate picks up, all from the simple touch of his hand. He moves it in slow, comforting circles, a small token to try and help me drown out my sorrows and misery.

“I don’t want to go back to sleep. I want to know what happened. I need to see Manny. Please,” I croak.

“I’m right here.”

Manny’s voice has me more alert than before. I’m happy to hear them all. Irritated doesn’t begin to scratch the surface that I cannot see them.

“I need to see you,” I say.

I’m welcomed with silence once again.

“Seriously?” I question, my irritation turning to anger. “I’m not a child. I want to see him.”

The click of a light switch comes from the corner of the room. A soft yellow glow cascades from the lamp. My dad is the first person I see, just like so many mornings when he would get me out of bed and help get me ready for school.

“Where’s mom?”

He has a slightly impressed grin on his face.

“She’s upstairs taking a shower.”

“Upstairs? Where am I?”

“We’re at Salvatore’s.”

I go to speak but my dad silences me with his finger.

“An ambulance brought both you and Manny here. No hospital, sweetheart. Too many questions would have been asked if you were taken there. You’ve been treated with the best doctors around, Calla. We have round the clock nursing staff here. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”

The hospital part catches me somewhat off guard. I contemplate what he said for a moment, although I understand more than any of them think I do. My dad, or someone, cleaned up after it all. Knowing my father, he hasn’t left my side, not once. Neither has my mother. Neither has Cain.

“I understand everything, Dad. I do have to say though, you look like shit,” I blurt out. He smirks.

“You think? I probably smell worse than I look. I haven’t showered in four damn days.”

“Four days? That’s how long I’ve been out?”

He lifts his eyes from mine to Cain’s.

“Dad?”

He exhales.

“You’ve been in and out for two weeks, Calla,” Cain says from behind me.

My body is stiff. How I manage to flip over to face him is beyond me. This is my first glimpse of him in two weeks. He has days of scruff on his face, his eyes bloodshot from what I guess is lack of sleep.

“Two weeks?”

That’s impossible. In and out without even realizing that two weeks have passed? Something is not right.

“What is it you three are hiding from me? Is something wrong?”

I may feel weak and somewhat lost, but for God’s sake, if I can handle what happened to me, then I sure as hell can handle whatever they are hiding from me.

“Dad. Please?”

His eyes dart from mine to Cain’s. Whatever it is, it’s bad. The last time I saw this pained expression on my dad’s face was the night he told me he was Salvatore’s hitman. I’m starting to become agitated.

“I’m not a child. I have a right to know!” I insist.

“All right, calm down. It’s not you. You’re going to be fine. The doctors had to keep you in a drug-induced coma. You were so banged up. So drugged up. Hell, with the amount of heroin they injected into you in such a short period of time, we’re damn lucky you’re alive.”

I rest my head back on my pillow, grabbing both Cain’s and my father’s hands. Manny stands at the end of my bed.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I had no choice but to allow them to keep you under,” Cain whispers.

“It’s okay. I’m just a little taken back. I knew they drugged me. I knew it was heroin, but my God, enough to truly kill me?”

I lift my head. The pain in my shoulder is merely an ache.

“And what about you, Manny? Are you really okay?”

He looks great, actually. Traces of yellowish color spread across one cheek and under one eye. Other than that, he looks like Manny.

“I’m fine. My pinky finger is gone.”

He lifts up his left hand to show me his bandaged up stump.

“Oh, Manny. I’m so sorry,” I say sincerely.

“Stop. There will be none of this ‘I’m sorry’ bullshit. We survived. Very few people do. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me. I couldn’t do a damn thing to save you from the shit my brother was doing to you and then that cunt. I hope she is living the true meaning of hell right now. Burning for eternity is too good for that dumb bitch.”

I can’t help myself. I start to laugh. I laugh so hard my stomach starts to hurt.

“So true!” I finally say. “And your brother is right there with her.”

The room goes eerily quiet. I look at all three of them in confusion. Again, an unsettling feeling overwhelms me.

“Royal’s not dead.”

Manny stops laughing before those dreaded words come out of his mouth. I feel myself gripping their hands even tighter. Tight enough to feel a stinging sensation.

“Shit. It’s my fault,” says my dad. My lips begin to tremble.

“I don’t understand.”

“Calla. Listen to me. I shot him in the shoulder. It’s the first time I have ever missed a mark. This is on me. I lost focus.”