Page 75 of A Mastery of Crows

For what it’s worth. She has months of recovery ahead of her. Physical. Mental.

She’ll never be the same again.

Rocco shrugs. “I didn’t do anything apart from sing that fucking song. Can’t get it out of my head, now.”

I glance up and down the empty hall. “I… yeah. Dom’s waiting for me outside. You coming back with us?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll stay for a while.”

He pulls a lighter out, flicking it. “Hey, Cat?”

I turn. “Yeah?”

He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “I’ve been looking after your friend, but he’s not in great shape. Figured you should know. You know, in case you want to be the one to kill him.”

My eyebrows draw down as I try to follow his sentence. “What? Who?Why?”

“How, where, when—,”

“Rocco—,”

“Relax.” He grins, and there’s something savage behind it that makes me wonder exactly what his story is. “You know, the whiny fucker. Can’t remember his name. Used to be the Fusco enforcer.”

I stare. “Leo?”

He points at me. “That’s the one. I’ve been calling himlittle carrot cockfor the last few weeks because I forgot it.”

I grimace at the visual. “How do you – actually, never mind. Thanks.”

“Welcome.”

***

My stomach churns as Vincent pulls the door open, a surprised look on his face. “Hey.”

“They here?” I glance past him. I’ve only been to the apartment shared by Vincent and Tony a handful of times over the last six years. It’s surprisingly tidy.

Vincent follows my look. “Yeah. Uh…Danny was the messy one.”

Neither of us mention Nicolo.

He points me in the direction of Tony’s room. “Hey, Cat. How… how’s Rosa doing?”

I pin him with a hard stare, and he glares back at me. “I just wanted to know if she’s doing okay. That’sit.”

“She’s fine,” I say flatly. “And still sixteen.”

“Merda,” he mutters. “I know that.”

“Remember it. Especially now you’ve seen how precisely Gio can shoot when he wants to.”

Hiding my smile at his expression, I head past him and knock on the door.

Frankie pulls it open. “Oh, thank fuck. Maybe he’ll listen to you. He’s a stubbornfiglio di puttana. There’s no fuckingwayhe can walk on that leg, but I think his ears are broken as well as his damn tibia—.”

Her words cut off as I throw my arms around her. “It’s good to see you, Frankie Costa.”

She’s smiling slightly, her scar stretching when I pull back. “You too, Corvo. Glad you got out.”