One Day I'll Let You Loose on the World

Killian

Mikey’d had a knack for arranging funerals. He always remembered everyone’s mother’s name, and their Nonna, and their favorite school teachers and neighbors. He always knew what restaurants to order catering from and who to talk to about suits to bury our dead in.

Now, without him here to do it, I didn’t even know where to begin. Sitting at my desk, I tried to remember who he’d called last time for the flowers. My gaze shifted to the office door and I half expected to see him walk through it in his white sleeveless shirt, carrying on about something Tommaso said, or what Francesco did, or how there was nothing to eat in the kitchen.

In a lot of ways, Mikey had been like the annoying little brother I hadn’t realized I’d wanted until he was gone.

Grief hung heavy in the house as I pulled myself up and straightened my shirt. I hadn’t slept at all, and my head throbbed from the stitches Enstrom had laced across my forehead the night before.

The night before.

It felt like a fucking