Eight Years as the Invisible Mafia Princess of the Family Chapter 05
My mom snatched the phone. She pulled up her booking confirmation and matched the flight number to the news over and over and over. Every time she checked, her hands shook harder. “No. No, it’s not.”
Katerina’s face went chalk-white. “Auntie, Vesper’s going to be okay.”
Dad dialed my number again and again. Nothing but the dead robotic tone of a powered-off phone. They didn’t stay in Bozeman. He ordered the pilot to refuel immediately and flew them straight back to New Orleans. My mom kept her eyes glued to the news the entire flight. Every time a new photo of mountain wreckage appeared, her tears fell harder.
By the time they got to Louis Armstrong Airport, the public terminal was drowning in screams and sobbing.
The same words echoed through the terminal, again and again, “Flight 4922 is confirmed down. We’re verifying passengers. Search and rescue is active. Leave your information—we’ll contact you with updates.”
My mom lunged forward and grabbed a staff member by the sleeve. “My daughter was on that plane! She’s only eighteen! How am I supposed to just go home and wait?”
The staffer’s face tensed with helplessness. People nearby rushed to steady her. “Ma’am, please calm down. We understand what you’re going through.”
“You don’t understand anything!” She was hysterical, screaming through her sobs. “Give me back my daughter!”
Dad wrapped his arms around her from behind. She went limp against his shoulder and cried so hard she could barely breathe.
The drive back to the estate felt endless. Right by the entryway, there was still an old pair of slippers I’d left behind.
My mom stared at those slippers a long time. Then she spun around and rushed up the stairs. She shoved open the door to Katerina’s bedroom before she remembered—that hadn’t been my room for a long, long time.
I’d given it to Katerina eight years ago. I’d been living in the cramped little room at the end of the back stairs, the one converted from an old laundry room.
It sat apart from everyone else’s rooms. It boiled in the summer. In the winter, cold bled right through the window seams. I lived there for eight years and never once complained to anyone.
The door swung open. Inside, there was a narrow bed pushed against the wall, an old desk, a metal clothes rack. That was it. All the hope I’d ever had for this family felt smaller than that tiny room.
Dad sat down on the bed, back bent. He pulled open the desk drawer and found a yellowed diary deep inside.
[February 16th. Dad and Mom took Katerina to the theme park in Orlando. I really wanted to go too. Was it because I didn’t get first place on the last exam that they didn’t bring me? If I do better next time, can I go with them?] Tucked behind that page was a park brochure, worn soft from being handled too many times.
[April 23rd. Today is my sixteenth birthday. There’s no cake in the kitchen. Everyone’s busy discussing which college advisor to pick for Katerina. It’s okay, Vesper. Happy birthday.] Beneath the words, she’d drawn a tiny little cupcake.
[June 7th. Dad and Mom both went with Katerina for her SAT prep. That’s okay. I’ll go take mine alone, and I’ll do well too.]
Dad lifted a hand to his face and realized he was already crying. He doubled over, buried his face in his hands, and his shoulders shook violently.
Silas locked himself in his room. He kept firing off messages to me.
[Vesper, where are you?]
[Just reply to me, please. I was awful before. I’m so sorry.]
As his vision blurred, a memory hit him—years and years ago, under that giant oak in Audubon Park. I was small, laughing and throwing myself at him.
He caught me and told the steward beside him he’d always, always protect the Rossetti princess. The steward grinned and asked, “And if anyone ever troubled her, you’d be the first to step in, wouldn’t you?” Silas pounded his chest and swore, “Swear to God.”
Later, Katerina walked into the estate parlor in a faded, washed-out dress, looking so small and terrified. His parents told him, “She lost her father. From now on, you especially watch over her.”
He watched her cry, and he handed over every ounce of patience, protection, and devotion that should’ve been mine. He handed it straight to the girl who “needed” it.
The Silas who swore he’d protect me forever was long gone.