Page 92 of Italy Can Bite Me

I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. “Would you like to see them?”

Her eyes brighten. “I’d love to.”

I swipe to the folder I keep hidden. I only open it when I’m feeling lost… when I need to remember. I hand her the phone, watching her expression soften.

“Wow,” she says with awe. “Your mom was right. Your dad is way better looking than you.”

I laugh, snatching the phone back. “That’s enough family commentary from you, principessa.”

We fall silent, allowing the soothing water to lull us into a peaceful stillness. Katie wraps her arms around me in a hug, and I find myself accepting the comfort.

“You know,” I say finally with a rough voice. “The Wish Cards were their idea.”

She stays quiet, but her thumb strokes across my back, encouraging.

“Right before… before the accident, they gave me this stack of blank cards. Said every dream deserved to be written down and that no wish was too big or too small. We were going to do them together, one by one.”

The memory cuts through me like a jagged blade. “After their funeral, I found them in my room. All these cards. Promises we’d never keep. I almost burned them.” My voice cracks. “Years later I realized—what if their gift wasn’t meant to end with me?”

“That’s why you do it for the tourists.” Understanding dawns in her eyes. “You’re not only granting wishes. You’re keeping their dream alive.”

“Every card people fill out, every wish I grant—it’s like they’re still here, helping me create the magic they believed in.” The confession burns in my throat. “Some days it’s the only thing keeping me going.”

“Matteo.” She pulls back to look at me, her eyes glistening. “What a beautiful way to honor them.”

I meet her gaze, my chest tight but warm. “They would have loved you.”

She reaches up and kisses me gently, and for the first time in years, I feel something I thought I’d lost forever.

Home.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

KATIE

GroupChat:CPKForever

Me:Quick poll: Are we having a hot girl or a hot mess summer?

Petra:OMG NEITHER! My brother just held an emergency staff meeting about proper email etiquette.

Petra:He used the phrase “font crimes against humanity” six times. Apparently someone used Comic Sans…

Petra:It was me. And I’ll do it again!

Cam:Can’t talk. Boss is having an Instagram-induced breakdown. Currently googling “How to stage your own kidnapping for content” while I hide in his closet.

Me:Maybe I’ll stay in Italy forever. Way less drama here.

Cam:Don’t you dare!

Petra:NOT FUNNY!

LORENZO IS IN FULLbeast mode—standing at the side of the bus, chucking suitcases like they’ve personally offended him. There’s no rhyme or reason to his method. No Tetris-style stacking. It’s sheer brute force, sweat, and aggressive handkerchief brow swiping.

THUNK. CRASH. BANG.

I wince as another designer suitcase takes flight, propelled by Lorenzo’s surprising upper body strength. It ricochets off the vehicle’s undercarriage like a deranged pinball before joining its fellow travel companions.

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