Charlie Chaplin’s ‘One A.M.’ begins playing. It’s a black and white short film from 1916. A silent film with antic sated music. It’s been one of my favorite comedic malarkeys since I was their age and I’ve watched it regularly with Oscar and Slonne in these past few months to add some laughter to our home. There’s pure joy in introducing the twins to classic short films and movies I loved. Their riotous laugher always has me smiling.
Halfway through the slapstick comedy, Giulio’s arm slides behind my backrest on the couch. An involuntary habitual action that has him retreat less than a second later. I feel his hot gaze burn through my side. I want to concentrate on the television, on the warmth my twins give the room, on how today I finally did something for myself which resulted in a new beginning, but Giulio derails me.
We play a game of cat and mouse. He turns to the movie when I look at him and he looks at me when I look away. I see how it is. I find this a better moment than ever with the music acting like a buffer to maintain discretion from the twins noticing.
I lean forward, my lips brushing against his ear. “Cosa hai fatto con il corpo?”
What did you do with the body?
When Giulio turns to me, our lips almost meet. “Ho assunto qualcuno.”
I hired somebody.
Hired somebody? My eyes widen and I need to swallow roughly to douse the fire burning up my throat. It doesn’t matter who he hired; how can we trust them to keep secret what we did and not turn on us or give the police a tip? We simply can’t.
“Chi?”
Who?
“Non devi preoccuparti. É tutto fatto.”
You don’t need to worry. It’s all done.
I turn back to the movie just as the twins burst out into uncontrollable laugher. I don’t need to worry. Is he serious? What is all done supposed to mean? How can he be sure the person he hired won’t rat us out? Is the dead man in some river or did they…
I feel even more sick than when I lay awake all night at the thought.
“Who was the guy? The one you…got,” I whisper.
Giulio inches closer to me, his lips meeting my ear this time. It’s such a soft whisper that I don’t anticipate biting my lip. “The man who attacked me that night by the circuit breaker box. It was him. Scar and all. What did you do with the clothes?”
His response has me spellbound.
“He could have told us so much. He said that we wouldn’t be able to stop what is happening soon without him. We could’ve been one step closer to finding Addilyn. We can’t even go to the police now! Not now that others are involved. Why would you hire somebody?”
“The clothes?”
“I burned them.”
His hot breath hits the back of my neck when he sighs in relief. “Perfect.”
Perfect? Nothing about our situation is those two syllables. Not even close!
“I don’t know who you are anymore.”
“I am the same man, only now you know the truth.”
“That’s what hurts the most, you lied about it the whole time. Then when he…” I shift closer to Giulio’s fresh cologne, desperate for the twins not to catch on. “When he began speaking again about danger coming you finished the job when we could have gone to the police! I get it was self-defense. I do. But killing him when we saw that he wasn’t dead…that’s murder!”
“That’s why I’ve changed my mind.”
My heart sinks. “On what?”
“On everything.”
We pull back and I stare at his clenched jaw, left to decide what exactly he means. I can’t press him for information, so I turn back to the silent film. Giulio and I remain motionless, frozen in time as laughter rumbles from both sides of us like two lethal rising tides that swallow us whole.
Giulio is right about one thing.
Everything’s changed…
For the worst.
Valencia
I wake up disoriented to my bedroom door being busted wide open. I make out a frenzied shadow rush towards me and all of a sudden brightness fills the room. What is going on?
My sensitive eyes blink away the light until my vision eases to complete confusion at the sight in front of me.
He is right here.
Giulio hovers over my bedside with worry written all over his face. His eyes are wide, giving the illusion of the illusive gray deepening and the powder blue concoction dissolving.
My first thought is the twins.
“Valencia.” His raspy voice is urgent. “Is everything alright? Are you okay?”
“Yes…what time is it? Has something happened to Oscar or Slonne?”
“It’s 4 A.M. The twins are perfect, but are you okay? What’s going on? Is the person still here?”
What person? I don’t get it….
What does Giulio mean by here?
“It’s okay,” His head swings towards my door. “Oh, out there?”
I take hold of his wrist before he can make the move, my fingers brushing against the pink beaded bracelet he’s still wearing. The one I am too. “What are you talking about?”
“You messaged me saying you needed help and that somebody is here. Are they out there?”
I take in Giulio as a whole. His short, dark stubble which trickles down to his neckline. Those untied charcoal sweatpants. Looking closer I notice his white t-shirt that fits him so perfectly is inside out and my breath stutters. He must have dashed here thinking the worst…but there’s a problem.
“What do you mean a message? I didn’t send you anything.”
“You sent me a text not too long ago. Here…” He pulls out his phone and shows me.
He’s right.
According to his phone, I sent him a text a 3:45 A.M. stating I needed help because somebody was here. But that doesn’t add up. It doesn’t make sense.
I sit up and the sheets lower as a result when I reach
