A smile dances across my lips as the giggle begins to emerge. As I turn towards Alice, to include her in my banter, I notice how fixated she is on the screen. I can't understand her enthralment until I hear the woman mention 'Mob Families.'
“In the late hours of the evening, several warehouses, belonging to the Rossi Family, mysteriously caught fire. Throughout the night, Firefighters worked diligently to control the blaze. When questioned, Chief Mendez suspects arson, leaving it in the capable hands of the Twisted City Police Department to begin their investigations. They suspect gang wars between the families—”
“Which families?” shouts Alice.
“What's with the sudden interest?”
She ignores me.
As usual, I find the news monotonous. Yet another
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The sudden anguish concerns me, causing me to rise from my elbows. “What happened?”
Again, she refuses to respond.
The jubilant anchorwoman changes the story, but this doesn't seem to appease Alice. I abandon my juice and rush to her side, my arms open, ready to envelope her, to comfort her from whatever is vexing her. As I begin to draw her into my arms, she uncovers her face, revealing an ecstatic grin. Consequently, I retract my arms and lean away from her. “I'm confused. Why are you so happy?”
“Huh?”
“You seem pretty relieved about
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“Well—” she begins while averting her gaze from me, her restless hand's fumble with the remote, “because I'm glad they have a handle on things.” She rises from the sofa, dropping the remote behind her before scurrying towards her room. “I should finish getting ready.”
I lean back against the sofa. Why is she acting so strange and why would this agitate her?
Wait, it's not the families who are feuding, it's the ones who aren't. “What family does Angelo belong to?” I call out.
“Bellini, why?” she shouts back.
“No reason.”
Does she have an interest in Angelo? Is her hatred for him just a cover-up? My hand flutters up to my lips to commence chewing on what little fingernails I have left.
She emerges from her room adorned in her jacket and her bag hanging from her shoulder. “I'm off to work, I should be home around six. Sure you're going to be okay?”
“Yeah, I'll be fine.”
“Oh, I left a stack of newspapers by the door. Can you put them in the recycling bin for me?”
“Sure.”
“Thank you, bye.”
I silence the TV and amble over to the breakfast bar to retrieve my juice. What are you hiding, Alice? As I bring the glass to my lips, curiosity consumes my thoughts. Once again, I abandon the juice and perch on the stool and commence drumming my fingertips on the