Twenty-seven:

Twenty-seven:

I had called Nero so that the two of us could talk. Nero and I were about a month apart. Maybe that should have been the tip off that there was something more to the two of us than we had thought. But I couldn’t imagine that my mother wasn’t my mother. There were two many secrets to fathom. The two of us were sitting at the Luna family restaurant, staring at each other.

“Well….” Nero fiddled with his drink, which was wine, even though it was in the afternoon.

“You put it together, didn’t you?” I said.

He raised an eyebrow. “Put what together?”

I groaned. “Come on. Don’t be like this. You’re too smart for that. You know exactly why I’m here. We’ve got to talk about the truth.”

Nero sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve never wanted a cigarette more badly and I’m trying to quite.”

I snickered. “Why, exactly, are you trying to quite? Does that have anything to do with a girl?”

He glared at me. “Oh, come on. Don’t talk about this. Things are already weird enough.”

“W