Page 93 of Mine Again
She chuckles, warm and rich, and for a second it almost calms the storm inside me.
“There’s nothing on this earth that could bringthatman down, not even a notch. But I’d certainly try.” She leans closer, all business again. “Now stop stalling. Drink up. Let’s make you sick.”
I eye the glass one last time, watching the liquid slide thickly against the sides.
“You’re enjoying this way too much.”
Mia grins, wicked and unrepentant.
“Oh, you have no idea. Now do it. We’re meant to leave tonight, and you need to be well and truly sick.”
I pinch my nose and force the glass to my lips. The first sip is worse than I imagined. It’s warm, slimy, and the taste hits me like a punch to the gut. I gag but manage to swallow, forcing it down with a shudder. Then I down the rest in one go. If I stop to sip, I’ll never get throughit.
Mia’s eyes widen, impressed. “Nice. Very convincing.”
“No acting required,” I croak, wiping my mouth. “That was horrific.”
I stagger over to the mirror and study myself. My skin already looks a little pale, probably from the drink alone. I tousle my hair, pinch my cheeks, then watch the color drain away again. My hands grip the edge of the dresser as I practice a few weak, shaky breaths.
The sound of Mamma’s heels clicking on the stairs sends a jolt of panic through me. My stomach churns for real this time. Whether from the nerves or that awful drink, I’m not sure.
“Isa!”
I barely make it to the toilet before I throw up, my body doubling over as wave after wave hits me. My throat burns, my eyes sting, and I feel truly awful now.
Mamma is at my side in an instant, holding my hair back and murmuring soothing words as she rubs my back.
When it’s over, I sag against the wall, trembling.
“Oh,tesoro,” she says softly, helping me to my feet. “What’s happened?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper, actually feeling weak. I don’t even have to pretend. “It’s probably something I ate.” Or drank.
I close my eyes as if the light hurts. “Maybe it was the snack I had at the market yesterday. It did taste a bit funny.”
Actually, the warm, flaky sfogliatella Sebastian fed me between kisses was delicious. We roamed the market together, talking about our final plans. But Mamma will never hear about that.
I let her guide me to my bed, my legs wobbly, my breath shallow. She tucks the blanket around me, smoothing my hair from my damp forehead.
“You’re not going anywhere like this. What should we do?” She looks truly worried, and a pang of guilt blooms in my stomach, making me retch again.
“I’ll call the doctor.”
“No, Mamma, please,” I protest, my voice hoarse. “It’s just food poisoning. No doctor can help with that. Rest is all I need.”
She lets out a long breath, her forehead crinkling in the way it does when she tries to hide her disappointment.
“I’ll call Aldo. See if we can postpone this trip for a few days.”
“What? No, Mamma. You’ve been looking forward to this trip. Don’t postpone it because of me.”
Her brow furrows as she debates whether to argue.
“Mamma,” I say more firmly, “I’m twenty-two. You don’t need me to come. This will probably be better in a day or two, and I’m perfectly capable of being on my own for a couple of weeks. I will not let you delay this because of me. You need to explore your options. Remember?”
Her shoulders sag, and for a long moment she just looks at me, torn.
Mia appears in the doorway. I bet she’s been eavesdropping again.
