Page 96 of Enzo

“Thanks,” she said flatly.

It was her first word spoken in hours, and somehow it terrified me even more than her silence.

Enzo stood up abruptly, adjusted his cufflinks, his crisp three-piece suit out of place in the white room, then left without a word.

“Where’s he going?” Armani whispered.

“Don’t know,” I croaked, fighting the urge to go after him, but I didn’t want to leave my sister.

My brothers must’ve read the struggle in my eyes, because they jumped to their feet.

“We’ll check it out.”

I nodded gratefully, and once they disappeared, I turned toward my sister. She still stared ahead, unwilling to look at me. I shot my mama, who held Amara’s hand from where she was seated on her other side, a desperate look.

Her red-rimmed eyes welled with tears, but she kept a smile firmly on her lips. She was scared to death of losing her, just like the rest of us.

“It’s going to be okay,” I rasped. I squeezed her tiny hand. “Our girl is strong. And when she’s tired, we’ll be strong for her.”

She brushed a finger against Amara’s cheek, then said, “She’s the strongest girl I’ve ever known.”

“I don’t have any left.” Amara’s voice was weak, barely above a whisper.

“Any what?” Mama asked, fear and terror lacing her voice. It matched the look in her eyes.

“Strength.”

Mama’s hopeless expression met mine, slicing through me like a sharp blade.

“I just don’t want to hurt anymore.” Amara lowered her head, hearing Mama’s wounded sound. “And I want my hair back.”

It was the first time hearing Amara utter such words, and I gave her a pleading look.

Unable to hold them back, tears flooded my eyes and spilled down my face while my fingers trembled, gripping her hand like she was my anchor when I was supposed to be hers.

Silence built as death danced around us, ready to collect, when the door to the hospital room opened.

I glanced up, then looked away, not recognizing any of the three bald men. Every once in a while, people would get the room wrong, drowning in their own grief. They’d realize it wasn’t their family here and leave.

They didn’t. Instead, I heard a familiar voice.

“Sorry I left so abruptly.”

My head whipped around and I gaped. Enzo’s hair was gone. On either side of him stood my brothers, both bald, too.

“Your… hair,” Amara whispered.

Enzo’s hand rubbed at his bare scalp, smiling softly but so damn devilishly. “Yeah, not sure where it went. Huh, oh well. I hope my wife doesn’t mind.”

I swallowed, slowly rose to my feet, then walked over to him. My brothers rejoined our sister so she could touch their heads, but I couldn’t look away from my husband.

My white Chucks pressed against his black loafers, my sweater brushing against the material of his expensive suit. We were so different, yet he was the missing piece to my puzzle. Thisman, the result of an arranged marriage, was my other half, and nobody could ever replace him.

“Your wife still likes you,” I breathed, while the wordsI love you, I love youplayed on repeat in my mind.

I lifted on my tiptoes so I could reach the top of his head and gently scraped my nails against his scalp.

“It’ll grow back,” he repeated my earlier words.