nine.

Cora

“We’ve missed you so much, sweetie.” Mom dislodges me from Dad’s arms and takes me all for herself, yanking me so close to her body we practically meld into one. She once again showers me with kisses, then she pulls back and gapes at my face. “Oh, honey. Marcus, doesn’t she look beautiful. My baby is all grown up.” I’m, yet again, in her arms, my faced smashed to her chest.

When she finally lets my dad gift me with another massive hug, we rotate slightly and Alessandro comes in my view. He stands there staring at us with his fists clenched at his sides, that famous, perpetual scowl proud on his face. I notice his eyes. They’re hard, sure, but there’s something in them, something so subtle it’s easy to miss. Longing, maybe? But like all the other times I see a light emotion, it’s gone within seconds.

Footsteps on the stairs. My parents and I whirl around to face Mr. Asher Beckham making his way down the exquisite wooden steps. He’s wearing a black suit as well, pressed and crisp,