Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 196(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
'Oh, sure.'
My head jerks up at hearing the other passenger speak.
That voice!
I know that voice, and my incredulous gaze flies straight to the brunette seated next to the driver.
That can't be her, can it?
"Julio, look!" I elbow my cousin's side and ignore his grunt of pain as I tiptoe and crane my neck in an effort to get a better look at the other girl. "Isn't that Ynez?"
The car speeds away before Julio can take a peek, and I bite back a groan.
Argh!
"I really think that girl—-"
Julio cuts me off with a glare. "Stop it, cuginetta. Remember what we came here for?"
"But I really think—-"
My cousin cuts me off with a groan. "Smettila!" The words translate to 'stop it' in Italian, and I feel slightly guilty after hearing the genuine dismay in Julio's voice.
"Don't you remember your promise, Ysa? Or don't you care anymore about not making your Mama feel guilty for moving on?"
"Of course I care—-"
"It's been four years since you last had fun," Julio stresses. "Four years!"
I bite back a sigh. Maybe he's right, and I'm worrying too much over Ynez again. "You win."
Julio shakes his head. "Not enough."
I make a face, but my cousin still isn't satisfied.
"I want to hear you promise, cuginetta. No more acting like you're Ynez' babysitter. Capisce?"
"Bene, bene." Fine, fine.
"Still not good enough," Julio retorts. "Give me your word, Ysabel Fiore—-"
"Yes, okay, you have my word."
"Good girl."
I slap his hand off when he tries patting my head, but Julio only laughs since we both know getting a rise out of me has always been one of his favorite hobbies.
The guy in front of us suddenly turns to Julio, asking him something about the lineup for tonight's live concert. You can practically see sparks flying between them, and by the time it's Julio and the other guy's turn to have their IDs scanned for entry, I've had the distinctly awkward pleasure of witnessing their first makeout sesh.
Ugh.
"Don't forget, we meet at midnight, va bene?" My cousin blows me a kiss before walking away with his arm already curled around his newest squeeze.
Security scans my ID next, and it takes only a moment before I have an admission band strapped around my wrist, and I'm also cleared for entry. Admission to the Marchettis' annual fright fest may be free, but pre-registration is non-negotiable for both residents and invited guests alike.
"Oh my gosh, is that..."
"No way, I can't believe that's..."
"Is that really..."
It's not just the Halloween decor, the refreshments, or the scare actors and the top-notch attractions that the Marchettis go all-out on. No expense is also spared to have A-listers drop by every year, and for good reason, too.
Clueless residents may think this party is Boston's most prominent family's way of practicing noblesse oblige, but in reality it's just the Marchettis wanting to have intel on everyone living in their city.
La Strega isn't the all-seeing, all-reaching, and all-powerful weapon of destruction that she is by chance. Nothing happens in the Hub that the Marchetti matriarch doesn't know about, and it's because of her - and not our so-called 'awesome' local government that's the reason why no one these days ever gets mugged, raped, or murdered.
Just a matter of luck, I can't help thinking as I absently watch a zombie nurse offer complimentary drinks in blood bags. Some people are lucky to live in a city like this, where famiglia with a conscience are in charge. And then there are those who aren't so lucky, like my Papa who...
Non andare lì, Ysabel!
Tonight is all about restarting my life, but I can't do that if I keep going back to the past.
Excited shrieks and cries from other guests give me something new to focus on, and I realize the front act for tonight's concert (also for free, natch) is about to start.
"It's really them! It's them!"
The stage setup is at the back of the fountain, and while I'm also a huge fan of the girl group from Korea that's just started singing and dancing in front of the crowd—-
I think I need to be alone for now, instead of being lost in a screaming sea of people.
I think I need to go to a place that's a lot more quiet and just think.
I think I need...that.
What seems like a massive garage shed has been repurposed and turned into an indoor horror maze...with a twist.
Answer right, and you get out alive.
Answer wrong, and you won't be breathing for long!
Apprehension skitters down my spine as I read the words that have been spelled out with incandescent light bulbs on a signboard right above its doorway. Since this is a famiglia-organized event that's held in a famiglia-owned property——should I be worried and take that warning literally?
But on the other hand, I did say I want to think, so...
Forza, Ysabel!
I march up determinedly to the entrance, and the clown manning the doors looks at me threateningly.