~GEMMA~
Lorenzo is watching me!!
He's trying to make sure I don't run away.
How long has he been watching Chloe and I??
I hate the fact that he has his eyes on Chloe too. He should fucking stay away from her or from me till I leave her.
I stare long at the car before I finally look away.
I force myself not to think about him and focus on Chloe. Today is for her.
We scream ourselves hoarse on the roller coaster—a reckless, twisting metal beast. The pure physical sensation of fear, divorced from the real fear of Leonardo, is a narcotic relief.
Chloe squeezes my hand as we plummet down a drop. "See? I told you this was better than calculus!"
"It's better than everything," I yell back, letting the wind tear the stress from my face.
We eat impossible food, fried dough dusted with sugar that tastes like childhood and rebellion. We sit on a chipped bench, covered in grease and laughter.
"This is the happiest you've been in months," Chloe observed, wiping icing from her chin. "Seriously, what is this job? Are you running away to join the circus? Because you could totally be a trapeze artist."
I smile, but the joy was thin, like stretch silk.
"Something like that. It's private, high-end work. Total relocation. No calls, no contact, but the money is… life-changing. It's what we always talked about. You graduate debt-free, Chloe. You go to med school. You never, ever look back at this neighborhood."
We spend the afternoon at the waterfront, watching the ferries churn the cold gray water. The rhythm of the waves are a cruel reminder of the steady rhythm Leonardo needed me to maintain. The setting sun cast long, orange shadows, the final countdown.
It's getting late, so we decided to go home.
I knew I couldn't delay the hard truth. It's time to properly say goodbye to my sister.
I hand her a sealed envelope when we are finally at home. It isn't the kind Leonardo gave me…. it was flimsy, with my scrawl handwriting on the front.
"This is important, Chloe. Don't open it until I'm gone."
She frowns, turning the envelope over in her hands. "Gone? You keep saying that. How long is 'long-term travel'?"
"Years, honey. Maybe a decade. I'll be completely off the grid. Think of me as working for the CIA, except with better pay and worse hours." I force a laugh that catches in my throat. "I have to go dark. No phone, no email, no letters."
I reach out and take her hands, my grip desperate, trying to transfer two decades of love into one touch.
"This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do, Chloe. But you have to promise me something. You have to promise me you will treat your life like a treasure. No excuses. No stopping. You are the only good thing I've ever done. Everything in that envelope is secure. All your tuition, your housing, a safety fund, it's untouchable. It's locked down by the people I'm working for. I did this so you don't ever have to worry about a bill, a debt, or a choice that pulls you into the street."
Tears wells in her eyes, but she fights them back, mimicking the stoicism I had taught her. "But I don't want money, Gemma. I want you here."
"I'll always be here." I touch her temple, tracing the line of her brow. "In your head. In every A's you get. In every decision you make not to be afraid. You don't need me to look after you anymore. I'm giving you the space to fly, Chloe. Don't you dare clip your own wings."
She finally breaks, lunging forward and wrapping her arms around my neck, squeezing me with the force of a lifetime of dependence.
The embrace is shattering. It was my final moment as her protector, her sister, her whole world.
I inhale the scent of her hair shampoo, textbook paper, and the clean scent of youth. I know this would be the memory I need to cling to when the cage walls start to close in.
"Who is in charge of your travel?" she manages, her voice muffles against my shoulder. "Who do I call if I get scared?"
I pull back just enough to look into her tear-filled eyes, giving her the only lifeline the contract allows.
"The person you should call is named Margarete Loretta. She's the corporate liaison. Her number is inside that envelope. Only call her if there is a crisis—a real one. She is the gatekeeper, Chloe. Do not bother her. But know that she is the only person who can connect you to the money and the protection."
I know Margarete would despise the calls, but she is the designated link and a convenient foil for my sister's potential inquiries.
I pull her close one last time. It was a fierce, proprietary hold. "I love you, Chloe. Be brave."
"I love you too, Gem. Hurry back."
I kiss her forehead, tasting the salt of her tears on my lips.
The conversation stretches out until the streetlights blinks on, marking the end of the day. The twenty-four hours are almost gone. Every second is precious, and now they are history.
I have to wait for her to go to bed before I leave. I don't want her to see me taken by those scary men in the morning. I don't need to say goodbye again. Everything has been said, done and sacrificed.