Page 35 of Vita Mia

Chapter Seven

Spring 1995

Sorrento, Italy

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MIRABELLA HELD LEEZAin her arms and watched her husband pace the floor in distress. Her constant tears were of no help to him. Giovanni had to reassure her every five minutes to keep her from a complete nervous breakdown. The nurse told her it was shock. Whatever it was she felt herself slipping into madness. Giovanni reacted violently when under duress. He’d threatened hospital staff, doctors, even his own men. The entire family had crowded in the small private hospital waiting for hope. Eve, Belinda and thirteen others were admitted. Eve’s condition was grave. Her lungs were inflamed, which caused them to swell, and block oxygen to her brain. It was the reason she kept blacking out. She also suffered second degree burns to her hand, wrist, and part of her arm. She had a sprain to her neck and left ankle from the fall out of the window. How she was burned or even why she was up in an attic with Belinda and Leo remained a mystery. Belinda had suffered a sprained neck and broken arm from the fall. She too had inhaled the toxins in the smoke. She was breathing oxygen and sedated.

There were missing people as well. Leo had died before their eyes, but Cecilia and twelve others were unaccounted for. Was this an attack? Did the Santoro’s slip into their home and cause this? They had so many enemies it was possible. No one had answers. Her baby began to cry. Mirabella put her against her shoulder and rubbed her back to calm her. Giovanni, red glassy eyed, turned toward her as if he too were waking from a nightmare.

“She’s going to be okay, Bella,” he once again reassured her.

“I hope so,” Mirabella said through her tears.

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GIOVANNI WALKED AGAINover to the nurse’s area. They saw him coming. The head nurse met him before the others suffered his wrath. “Don Giovanni, the doctor is on his way down.”

“I want to see my daughter. It’s been long enough. I need to know how she is. Now!”

“Si, Of course. Please. Give us a minute. He is on his way.”

Renaldo put a hand to his shoulder. “Gio, give it another ten minutes and if he isn’t here I’ll drag the doctor down myself.”

That would not be a good idea, but Giovanni considered it. Though he wanted the doctor focused on Eve, the wait was murdering him. He wiped his hand down his face and tried to settle his fear. The only thing that moderately worked was pacing. Giovanni heaved a heavy sigh. He nodded and forced himself to calm down. He had never felt the level of fear he carried in his chest like when he saw his daughter being tossed from that window. It was so raw and agonizing the memory would be forever burned into his brain. If she died, he’d make whomever was responsible for the crime live long enough for him to bring him equal pain and suffering before he snuffed out their life.

“It’s the Santoros,” he turned to Renaldo. “It’s them. I know it’s them. They tried to kill my family. I want their blood. Start with the women and children.”

“We will confirm, Gio. We will. But first we have... many of our own people hurt,” Renaldo reminded him.

“Cecilia? Did Leo—?”

“There’s a search going on at Melanzana. We are looking for Cecilia and Leo.”

“Kyra? Is your wife okay?”

Renaldo nodded. “She left before the fire, but she’s back. She’s downstairs with the others, comforting the wives.”

“Good, oh, good thinking,” Giovanni stammered. He paced stiffly as if his limbs were paralyzed by the trauma. Renaldo walked at his side as he paced back and forth. His presence was a comfort, and also strategic. Renaldo kept himself between Gio and the nurses and the men. He was acting boss, during the tragedy. He proved to be very capable of the job. Before Gio let go another accusation he saw three doctors approaching him. He studied their faces and prayed a silent prayer.

The twins were asleep in family members arms, but his infant daughter was awake, alert and looking around. Mirabella walked over to him holding her close. His wife was barefoot in a silk robe that shielded the nudity beneath. It dawned on him that they were homeless. Melanzana, a home built for his family nearly a hundred years ago, was gone. Even their clothing went up in smoke. In a blink of an eye his world was reduced to ash.

“Don Giovanni, Donna Mirabella,” the doctor said. “As I told you both Eve and your cousin Belinda took in a toxic amount of smoke into their lungs. Your daughter had prolonged exposure.”

“She did? How, Gio? What was she doing up there?” Mirabella asked.

“We are concerned, because of her age. I am asking that they both be airlifted to Napoli tonight. They can get better care than we can offer here.”

“What do you need?” Giovanni asked.

“The medical helicopter is on its way. It’ll be here soon.”

The doctor gave the name of the hospital and the team of doctors who will be handling their care. Renaldo took down the details. Mirabella wept at her husband’s side. Giovanni listened and only spoke after the doctor did. “I need to know what is the worst-case scenario for my daughter. For both her and Belinda?”

The doctor cleared his throat but looked clearly troubled by his position of messenger. “Carbon monoxide ingestion could not only cause irreversible damage to the lungs, but also the heart. The oldest girl has inflammation that is severe, but treatable. However, your youngest who seems to have had the most exposure to this fire could have changes in her lung function that could be permanent. We don’t know more than that at the moment.”

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