Page 32 of Beneath the Shadows

"Yes, we are.” My father steps forward. “This is his wife,” he adds, motioning to Aunt Domenica.

The doctor closes the door and sits next to her. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking. "I’m Dr. Langley, the cardiologist on call. Your husband suffered a major heart attack."

A collective gasp ripples through the room. Aunt Domenica clutches my mother's hand tighter, her face pales. Mom’s eyes widen, filling with fresh tears.

“The heart attack affected a large portion of his heart, causing extensive damage to the tissue. Right now, his heart is very weak,” Dr. Langley explains.

“What can be done for him?” I ask.

“We’ve administered medications to help his heart pump more effectively and to prevent further clots," he replies. "If he stabilizes, we may consider more advanced interventions—angioplasty, or possibly bypass surgery.”

“What are his chances of survival?” Aunt Domenica asks, her voice barely a whisper.

The doctor’s expression is grave. “It’s hard to say for certain. The next 24 to 48 hours are critical. We’ll do everything we can, but I need you to be prepared—there’s a possibility he won’t recover.”

Aunt Domenica stifles a sob and my mother wraps an arm around her. "Can we see him?" she asks, her voice choked with emotion.

"Yes, but only two at a time," Dr. Langley instructs.

My father steps forward. "I’m sure you know who Mr. Comiso is." The doctor nods. “We have security on the way. Until they arrive, my family stays together.”

Dr. Langley hesitates. "All right, but please, keep it brief and quiet. He’s still in critical condition, and we can’t risk any unnecessary stress."

Uncle Gio lies in the hospital bed, tubes and wires connecting him to the equipment, each breath assisted by the mechanical hiss of a ventilator.

Aunt Domenica rushes to his side, clutching his hand. My mother follows, whispering a desperate prayer. I stand at the foot of the bed, struggling to reconcile the image of him now as he clings to life with the strong man I’ve always known.

Alessia places her hand on my arm. “He’s going to be okay,” she whispers and I want to believe her, but seeing Uncle Gio like this makes it hard to hold on to hope.

My father stands near the entrance to the room, arms crossed, body tense, and expression unreadable as he keeps watch, knowing our men haven’t arrived yet.

Alessia stays close, her calming presence steadying me. The urge to pull her closer is almost overwhelming, and for a moment, my arm moves to wrap around her. But I stop myself because she’s not mine to hold.

Suddenly, the machines start beeping erratically. The medical team springs into action, rushing into the room. My father quickly moves the women aside, guiding them to a corner as doctors and nurses surround Uncle Gio.

Aunt Domenica clutches her handkerchief to her mouth, her eyes wide and filled with terror, unable to look away as they work on her husband. Silent tears streak down her face as she grips my mother’s arm, trembling.

A nurse begins compressions, pressing down rhythmically, trying to coax Uncle Gio’s heart back into a steady rhythm. Each push forces blood through his body, keeping his organs alive while his heart struggles. Another presses a mask over his face, ensuring he’s getting enough oxygen while his body fights to hold on.

Dr. Langley steps in taking charge, his voice steady but urgent as he issues commands. The team moves efficiently, placing defibrillator pads on Uncle Gio’s chest while the doctor directs the timing of medications, his instructions cutting through the chaos.

Aunt Domenica lets out a soft whimper. "Please, Gio...please.”

With the defibrillator charged, Dr. Langley calls for everyone to clear. A shock jolts Uncle Gio’s body, causing it to convulse. We all hold our breath, watching the monitor. There’s a spike—a small flicker of hope, but it fades as quickly as it came.

Undeterred, the team continues, cycling through compressions, medication, and shocks, each step crucial in their attempt to restart his heart.

My father grips my shoulder, his face pale. “This doesn’t look good, Anton.”

A lump forms in my throat, and my stomach knots as I watch everything unfold. I’m used to being the one who knows what to do—but right now, I feel completely helpless. The team works tirelessly, but it’s clear that despite everything they’re doing, Uncle Gio is slipping away.

The line on the monitor, once spiking with each attempt to revive him, now lies flat. A single, steady tone fills the room, signaling the end. I stand frozen as Dr. Langley reaches up and turns off the machine, cutting the sound. The silence that follows is even more unbearable, the finality settling over us.

“I’m sorry,” the doctor says softly, his eyes filled with genuine sympathy. “He’s gone.”

Aunt Domenica lets out a wail of raw, agonizing grief. Mom clings to her, both of them sobbing uncontrollably. Dad holds them tightly against his chest. Alessia places a hand on my arm, reminding me I’m not alone even as numbness washes over me. Everything feels distant and unreal.

The door bursts open, and Valentino strides in, his face etched with shock. “What happened?” he demands, looking around, his voice laced with disbelief.

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