Melting Point: The Moonlight Society (The Moonlight Society Series Book 1) by Octavia Clarke & Fenn Copper

Author:Octavia Clarke & Fenn Copper [Clarke, Octavia & Copper, Fenn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-10-31T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12 – Her Sun Set Whilst It Was Yet Day

Brescia, Italy, 1990

Mr Rossi stood over Francesco. He was crouched on the floor in the hospital car park, his arms wrapped around his head as if shielding himself from blows, his finely cut suit crumpled and his hair wild from running his despairing fingers through it again and again. He looked very much like the hungry, haunted-eyed little boy he’d seen outside the factory all those years ago.

His heart contracted with grief, for Laura, for the baby, for his wife and for Francesco. So much loss. His own knees felt weak with the weight of it, and he crumpled down on the kerb next to Francesco, his arm around the younger man’s shoulders.

They sat in silence. The silence rolled on and on, pressing in on them. There was nothing to say. Laura and Rosa, their little girl, had been severely injured when a truck hit them head-on on a narrow road as she drove them home from a picnic in the mountains. They had no chance of survival. The hospital had merely been able to ease their suffering in the short hours they had left.

The doctors and nurses had tried, he knew, but everyone in the hospital, from the medical staff to the priest, had looked on helplessly as Laura and her little one slipped away from them whilst Francesco sobbed by their bed. He, too, had looked on, filled with the horror not only of his own loss but of Francesco’s. He, at least, had the privilege of seeing his Laura grow up, seeing her find love, seeing her have a child of her own. Francesco would not get to see Rosa grow up. It was unbearable.

Slowly, Mr Rossi pulled Francesco to his feet. He came with him, quiet and docile as if he were sleepwalking. He looked at Francesco’s car. Francesco was not in a fit state to drive, and neither was he. He took Francesco’s arm and guided him through the streets to his mother’s house.

The bustling streets in the spring sunshine was alien. The laughter of children rang out from the park as they passed by and it felt like an insult to their grief. He was nonsensically angry at the sound of their joy. He glanced at Francesco. He didn’t appear to have heard them. He put one foot in front of the other slowly, deliberately, seeming not to care where he went beyond that one step.

Mrs Castelli opened the door with a smile that faded when she saw Francesco’s grey, broken face. She glanced at Mr Rossi.

“What happened?” she said quietly.

Still, Francesco didn’t stir, didn’t look up. He was like a statue, frozen in his shock and grief.

Mr Rossi shook his head. His own face crumpled as he tried to frame the words.

Paling, Mrs Castelli took Francesco’s hand and took him inside. She led him to the sofa, where he sat, obediently, when told to.

She drew Mr Rossi into the kitchen. He closed his eyes.

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