JOSEPHINE

Waking up in a hospital was just as bad as my short stay with the Marinis. While I could trust that they wouldn't inform anyone from the authorities, the hospital was obliged to notify CPS. I was most annoyed with myself. Over the past few weeks, I had expended so much energy hiding that I finally ran out of it. I couldn't pinpoint why, but I always felt like I was being followed. In case the Marinis changed their minds, I avoided anything that screamed homelessness. All of that effort just to collapse on the sidewalk and land in this bed. I had been here for two hours, awake for one of them, and they had tried several times to find out who I was. So far, I hadn't said a word, and the doctors had blamed it on my condition.

My plan was simple: buy as much time as possible and leave as soon as my body would let me. If I assessed the situation correctly, it would take a while before CPS dealt with my case, and perhaps that time would be enough for me. Perhaps, a dark part of me thought, it would be better if they found me. But that would mean going back to him, and I couldn't endure that again, even though I was becoming certain that this winter would be my last.

Was dying really that bad? What else could I expect from my life besides hunger, cold, and constant fear? I would never finish school and therefore wouldn't be able to find a job. I didn't have a family and certainly wouldn't have one. So what was left for me? My parents would probably be disappointed with how my life had turned out, but they weren't here to tell me that. "You have no one on the street," Crazy Carl had said, and in that moment, I understood exactly what he meant for the first time. I was alone, and it hurt to be alone.

The nurse came back to check my temperature. She smiled kindly, but I could still see pity in her eyes. She said something I didn't hear as she adjusted the heating blanket above and below me. It was comfortable, I had to admit. I wasn't shaking as much anymore and could feel my feet again. At some point, when I was unconscious, they must have put an IV in me. I didn't know exactly what it was, but the nurse told me it was nutrients to stabilize my circulation. She was really nice, and I felt a little ashamed of my previous behavior. After all, she was doing her best to help me while I did my best to resist.

My clothes were neatly folded on a chair to my left. They weren't actually mine but Vito Marini's. I still couldn't comprehend that I had survived my encounter with his brother. What was more, they had given me food and a place to sleep. They had discarded my old clothes and replaced them with new ones that were much better than what I had before. I was truly grateful for it all. It also helped me hide better because I no longer looked like a hobo at first glance. They were likely the reason someone had stopped to see if I was still alive. Clothes make the man. Again, I felt a twinge of shame at that thought. Whether it was the clothing or not, the person had seen someone in need and helped. That had to mean something.

Tired, I leaned my head back into the pillow and looked out the window as the snow began to fall again. I would have preferred to sleep, but everything felt so tiring. I could barely keep my eyes open, yet something kept me awake.

There was noise outside in the hallway, and footsteps approached my room. It was probably just a coincidence, but my heart started to race with fear. Had they been faster than I anticipated? Were they here to take me away? That couldn't be! Everything inside me tensed involuntarily. The footsteps grew louder until they suddenly stopped. The door opened, revealing the nice nurse and two doctors who entered the room with their backs to me. They were talking to someone, and then I saw who it was: Vito and Domenico Marini.

The two ignored the doctor, who said something about my condition, and looked at me. I could only stare back. Vito looked elegant, like last time. His dark hair was styled, and he radiated a natural authority that had made me feel small before. His expression was serious, but his eyes softened as he looked at me, as if he wanted me to know that everything would be okay. If only he knew! Domenico looked uninterested, checking the room and the devices around me before looking back at me. I couldn't read his expression. Why were they here? How did they know where I was?

"To stabilize her temperature. We have also started IV therapy—I hope that was in your interest, Mr. Marini—but she needs to be put on a diet soon to treat her cachexia. If you wish—"

"Thank you. You can go now," Vito interrupted the older doctor coldly without looking at him. I tried to hide under the covers, which didn't go unnoticed since both brothers were watching me like hawks.

"Of course, let us know if you need our help," he said quickly, and the two doctors disappeared through the door. The nurse stood uncertainly, looking from me to the two men. You could see her inner conflict: Should she leave or ensure I was okay? I smiled briefly at her and then nodded. There was no reason to drag her into this mess I created.

She looked at the brothers again, looking sullen. "I'll come right back to check your vital signs, sweetie. If you need anything, just press the bell, and I'll be with you, okay?" Ashamed of her concern for my previous rudeness, I thanked her quietly, and she hesitantly left the room.

21...22...23...

I wanted to say something, but the gates of hell had already opened themselves. "Don't you dare apologize for being called because of you. Instead, explain to me why you didn't call me in the first place, even though I told you to do it if you need any help." I slid a little deeper into the blanket. "Do you know how worried I—" Vito looked at Domenico, who was leaning motionless against the wall, "—we have been?"

"I'm sorry," I mumbled quietly, looking at the edge of my bed. Guilt crept into my heart. Why was I feeling guilty?

"That doesn't answer my question!" replied Vito. "So?" He looked at me impatiently.

"I didn't have a cell phone," I replied as my fingers fiddled with the heating blanket.

"Tiny." Domenico's deep voice sounded strained. "You could have just asked someone for a cell phone."

"I—I didn't know if you meant that seriously. You don't know me, so why would you help me? I'm nothing but trouble." I whispered the last part, but they still heard it. Vito pulled a free chair up to my bed and sat down next to me.

"I mean everything I say or do, Josephine. You know that, right? Besides, don't you think we have to decide for ourselves whether you're too much trouble?" He sounded so serious, and I dared to look at him. His face was serious, and nothing indicated otherwise. Still, I wasn't sure whether I should believe him or not. At least it remained a fact: we didn't know each other. "Fine. What's your plan then? You can't really believe you're able to leave this hospital as soon as you can stand again and then hide again unless, of course, the authorities get you faster. Keeping the circumstances of your stay here in mind." The way he said it made my idea sound not so well thought through, so I remained silent and avoided his gaze again.

"You know that would mean your death," said Domenico, and again I was silent. Vito rubbed his face next to me. Please make them go!

"Domenico is right. There's no way you'll make it through this winter, especially not as weakened as you are right now." I still didn't say a word. What should I even say? That I didn't care what happened to me? It seemed unlikely they would want to hear my thoughts. Vito shook his head in lack of reaction from me. "Nico?" he turned to his brother.

"I agree." Agree to what? What were they planning to do? My heart began to beat faster again, which, thanks to the monitors behind me, didn't go unnoticed by the two of them. "Calm down, Tiny, we won't kill you." Oh no? From a purely objective point of view, there were few reasons for me not to assume this. After all, he had held a gun to my head the first time we met, and I had done the same thing myself later. So things weren't going well for his claim.

"We would like to apply for custody of you. I can understand that you don't trust us yet, and I'm sorry about how our first encounters were, but I promise you that we will take care of you, and you will be safe." No. No. No. No. I shook my head in shock. That was never a good idea in my life! I couldn't live with them. Anything could happen there! He had also said that I was safe with him, that he would "take care" of me. Behind me, I heard the monitor beeping faster and faster, and I started having trouble breathing. Oh no, not again! Not now. Not now! Please, not now!

"Josephine. Look at me." Filled with panic, I looked at Vito. His face looked calm in contrast to what was going on inside me. Determined. "You're here in the hospital. Wherever your head wants to send you, you're here. You're safe. Nothing will happen to you here. Domenico and I are here. The nurse will be back soon. You're safe here." I will never be safe! "No one will harm you here. Breathe, Josephine. You're not there. Look out the window; it's started snowing. We'll take care of you. You're safe here." Vito repeated his words again and again, and, miraculously, I was able to continue breathing. My heart started to slow down. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe I was safe with them. But what if that was also a lie? Or would they change their minds at some point? I inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"I can't do that!" My voice sounded pleading, but I didn't know for what.

Vito took a deep breath and carefully took my hand, which had been clinging to the blanket. His hands felt warm. "And that's okay." It wasn't what he said but the way he did it, as if he knew what I wanted to say—

"No, that's not it!" I shouted and tried to pull my hand away again. "That's not okay. Now you say one thing, but what about later?" Tears welled up in my eyes. "I can't do this! It's not worth it. I'm not worth it!" I tried to make it clear to Vito, but he gave me that look again. Then he sat down next to me on the bed and took me in his arms.

"It's okay," he whispered, rocking me gently as I completely lost my temper and began to cry uncontrollably. Why couldn't they understand? I couldn't be saved, and I wasn't worth saving! "It's okay," he repeated, and something inside me must have broken. I lost control of my body. Why didn't they see how worthless I was?

"Nothing's okay. I can't do this," I said in a choked voice, trying to swallow the tightness in my throat. "I can't." All the cold nights, this loneliness, and this constant feeling of restlessness. I didn't belong anywhere, and I never would. There could be no future for me. There would be no future for me! So I cried harder for my lost chances in life.

I didn't know how long we sat like that, but at some point, I must have stopped crying and slumped exhausted against Vito, who was still rocking me and saying it was okay.

"I can't take it anymore," I mumbled weakly.

"Then we'll be able to do it until you can do it yourself again," Vito replied, stroking my arm. "This doesn't have to be the end, Josephine."

It can also be a start.





Hello there!

How are you all doing? I'm highly fascinated with the statics function and look at you! You're from so many diffrent countries and yet here. Thank you so much and also for 300 reads, 32 votes and 50 comments (but including mine, so probably much less)! I'm curios: where are you from and whats something about your country that isn't common knowledge?





Thats all I have to say for today. I wish you a wonderful weekend and see you soon ;-)