“He’s not here.”
“He had to work. He’s coming back. I gave him a key.”
“What key?”
“The only key.” Rosetta smiled a little. “At least, the only one I could find, and I didn’t want to poke around your things too much.”
“Since when? You were all up in my shit when I was a kid.”
“You’re not a child anymore, Benito. Lord help me, neither is Gianna. She’s a good, strong girl, and it’s all because of you.”
Benito rubbed his chest again, bemused. “Did you bang your head since I last saw you?”
Rosetta’s smile vanished. “I’ve been working hard to be grateful for things instead of afraid of them. It’s distracting me from the fact I’m trapped in your flat until I have to go somewhere new. But it’s all true. I’m proud of my kids.”
“Be proud of Gianna.”
“I’m proud ofbothof you.”
Benito lost the will to argue. He forced himself up again and shuffled to the bathroom. It felt like returning to the scene of a crime. He gazed at the floor, flashes of the worst moments ambushing him as he stumbled to the shower. Puking his guts up. Falling. Gianna screaming. The relentless headache and the burn in his lungs so fierce he’d thought he was dying until Mickey had saved him. His hands had been so warm Benito had nearly cried. Perhaps he had.Why can’t I think clearly?
He got his answer later that day. A nurse from the hospital called and explained the symptoms of smoke inhalation to him.
“It doesn’t always happen right away,” she said. “Sometimes it can be a few hours before the body reacts. The doctor would like you to come for a chest X-ray as soon as possible. Could you come tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow? Fuck, I have to work.”
“No, you don’t.”
Benito glanced up as the new voice came from the bedroom doorway. Mickey glared back at him, slate gaze as flinty as Benito had ever seen.
“You’re not fucking working,” he growled. “Wherever you need to go, I’ll take you.”
“Um... okay.” Benito took the appointment the nurse was offering and ended the call. He eyed Mickey, taking in his untucked shirt, messy hair, and tired face. Gorgeous as he was, he didn’t look much better than Benito felt. “Long day?”
Mickey grunted and disappeared.
Panic seized Benito’s chest, but Mickey was back before it manifested. He had a pizza box in one hand, a giant bottle of water in the other. “Rosetta said you’ve been eating like a bird, and I know you like pizza, right?”
Benito rubbed his temple. “Why is my mother discussing my eating habits with you? Has she had a fucking lobotomy?”
“Since you nearly died in a tower-block inferno? Probably.” Mickey shut the bedroom door and came closer. “She’s taking a nap. I think I freaked her out with the good news.”
“What good news?”
“We found her a new flat, and most of her belongings—and Gianna’s—survived. It was smoky as hell up there, but the flames didn’t get past the breaks.”
Benito let out a low whistle. “The breaks installed the same day a gigantic fire started?”
“Yup. The cladding still went up like a rocket, but the new breaks were spread out enough that it didn’t turn into Grenfell mark two.”
Benito shuddered. “It was all I could think of when I saw what was happening.”
“Me too.”
“I don’t remember you being there... I mean, I know you were. I canfeelit. But when it gets in my head, I can’t see your face.”
Mickey set the pizza box on the bedside table and sat down. He nudged Benito’s hand away from his aching head and replaced it with his own.