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“I’m not tired of you,” she says.

“Then what did I do?”

“You did nothing.”

“Then why does it feel like punishment?”

“It’s not punishment,” she says.

My chest aches. “I don’t want to go. How do you even have the money.”

“It has nothing to do with you, child.”

“I’m not ready!”

“You’ll be fine.”

The room spins a little.

I’ve always been good. I’ve always done everything she asked. I help at the café. I wake up early. I keep the house clean. I pray. I say my rosary. I never went behind her back. I never caused trouble. I never even—

“Bea will visit you often,” Nonna says, turning to her now. “Once Lunetta’s settled, you’ll go to see her as many times as you wish. I’ll take you myself.”

Bea’s mouth opens slightly, but she only nods.

Her eyes are glassy. Her throat moves like she’s trying to swallow something heavy.

But she forces a soft smile and turns to me. “It won’t be so bad, Lune.”

I look at her, eyes wide. “You’re not the one being sent away.”

She doesn’t answer.

Nonna rises from her chair, her hands smoothing down the front of her skirt.

“You’ll start packing tonight.”

I sit there, stunned.

“You won’t leave this house until we go,” she continues. “You won’t come to the café. Not even to church. You’ll stay inside.”

I stare at her, frozen.

“I’ll speak to Bea’s mother,” she adds. “You’ll be getting a small phone. One you’ll carry with you at all times.”

Bea nods faintly.

Nonna’s gaze settles on her again. “And you—watch her. Like a hawk.”

Bea nods again. “Yes, ma’am.”

My throat burns. I feel like I’m drowning and no one sees it.

Nonna turns to me once more.

“Do you understand? Do you understand?” Nonna asks again, her voice firmer now.

I push back from the table, and I stand, heart pounding, and without thinking—I kick the chair aside. It topples behind me with a loud thud.