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butididntpourthewhiskeys · 1 year

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D O P A M I N E

Chapter I

“There’s a side to you, that no one really gets out there. And I’m glad they don’t. Because that way, I can still have you all to myself somehow.”

April 13, 2032

She closes her eyes momentarily, sort of forces herself to take this moment in properly. For once. She moves her head to the left, her eyes wandering down the majestic hills of the city of Portofino. The sound of an old Vespa driving down the serpentine streets far, far away. The warmth of April sun kisses her skin, almost a bit too strong for her taste, right here, right now on this beautiful Friday morning. Not a single cloud in the sky. The full bliss of the mediterranian sun kissing her warm skin. She smiles slowly, not sure whether it’s her soul tingling her chest and making her break into this facial expression or whether it’s just the sun on her face, forcing her to twinkle her eyes together. But in this moment, everything is okay. She closes her eyes again, takes a deep breath to soak it all in. The nervousness in this moment. The tingling feeling in her belly that is truly a mixture of nervousness and excitement. The fears, and also the happiness that comes with it. The gratefulness, she was taught by life. The awareness of the fact that some things can’t be controlled. Sometimes, for the better. Sometimes for the worse.

Within a few moments, she can already hear his bare footsteps over the checkered tiles, making his way back to the rustic breakfast table she’s sat at here outside. The sound of a porcelain mug touching the marble stone table. Taylor opens her eyes, knowing very well that who she will find with her eyes will instantly bring this feeling of Peace back onto her chest. He shields his face from the sun, moves on his chair a few inches away to ensure that he can have his breakfast in peace, without the sun tingling his eyes that much. He should’ve grabbed his sunnies before stepping outside. She can read his mind like a book.

Tayor just sits there, reaches for the coffee mug he just placed in front of her and takes a first sip. God, she loves this coffee. He got it at the farmer’s market at the Mercato Del Giovedi last week. Hazelnut and Vanilla aroma. He’s explained the process of how to make the perfect Italian espresso to her for half the day when she commented how great the coffee was, that he placed next to her in bed that morning. A little ritual he knows she can’t live without anymore. The sound of an espresso cup being placed next to her bed after a long night of getting no sleep again, and walking the corridors back and forth from room to room, trying to soothe and carrying the weight of a little insomniac - the little boy version of herself and him. The smell of coffee and the feeling of gentle kisses being placed on her temple, followed by his firm and familiar hand on her arm and the whispers of i love you’s in the air. Mornings with him.

She knows he loves roaming around the various Italian market on weekends in the area. His love for trying new foods and then forcing her to eat whatever new fruit he just got, or whatever new coffee-making technique some Nonna at the local coffee shop has taught him is one of the things that simply ‘came with age’ as she teases him so often. But all of that teasing is just her way of avoiding to say these words that everyone has on the tip of their tongues. Those words that are easier to say than any other. He’s happy. He’s not just found her, but also a new love for life and a sense of curiosity and belonging that he maybe craved for thirty years of life.

Life, before her.

Still, she’s convinced he talked her into buying this house in the hills of Portofino, just to have best access to coffee, lots of it, fresh italian ice-cream and authentic Pasta alla Vongole, right by his doorstep.

“We should invite Suki and James tonight as well. To celebrate. I’m having a good feeling about this.” he says, placing his coffee mug in front of him again, smirking over to her side of the table. His phone still in his hand, he carefully places it next to his plate. His eyes are a little puffy, after all it’s been a long night again. But the happiness in his face is undeniable. And she hates it. She hates his premature excitement that will most likely just result in disappointment again. Taylor takes a deep breath, just brushes a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. He can tell she didn’t like that comment, but he won’t ever change when it comes to this. He won’t ever swallow down the fact that he just knows. He knows it will work out. It has worked out before, and it will work out again. And he knows her well enough to know that whatever optimism and calmness she lacks, he’s here to balance it out for her. That’s why he’s here. To be for her, what she’s been for him for so long.

“First of all, it will be the same result as every time. Heard it from me first.” she says, raises her hand as if she’s going to win this one with him. Even though there’s no winning in this. She knows so much better. He just leans back sitting in his chair, the warm tiles under his bare feet. He knows where this is going, crosses his arms over his tattoos and patiently waits for her to finish her speech.

“Second, I would certainly not tell anyone else but my mother tonight. If I would even tell her, to be honest. Probably not. Which is also irrelevant since it’s definitely not going to be…”

“What’s with all this scowling, grumpy cat?”

In the process of taking a slice of melon from the big plate he placed in front of her, she just stops for a second. Looks at him with the face he enjoys more than anything. She’s half mad, half smirking, her bangs still all over the place, as always in the mornings. She hates it when he doesn’t properly react to her dramatic statements, and instead just focuses on making her crack a smile. She hates it, but she can’t live without it either. He knows that as well as everything else about her.

“Grumpy cat died years ago. The internet knows.” she says trying to act smart, and starts eating her breakfast.

“Pretty morbid. Wow. Didn’t know this side to you until now. A bit scary but I like it.” he teases in a thick accent, and she just gives him one last provoking look before cutting the slice of melon in half with her knife. He smiles his cheekiest smile, just sitting across her in the shade. She knows him for so long, and these mundane conversations are as familiar to her as the feeling of home she gets when hugging her mom or listening to new music with her dad in the car. Yet he still gets her somehow. Yet he still has the ability to challenge her mind completely and in each conversation.

“I just hate that you’re getting your hopes up, when..”

She doesn’t have to finish her sentence, already witnesses him moving his chair to sit closer to her. It’s his way of shutting her up. His arms immediately open up, and almost like a reflex, she just melts into these, feels his arms wrap around her from both sides. The most familiar smell in the world in her nose. His big hands holding her so tight over her white tank top that she’s slept in last night. She closes her eyes, her small hands clawing a bit more into his skin over his t-shirt than she usually does. Her nose in his shirt. His lips on her ear. Her small fingers digging into his tattooed skin.

“No matter what, it’ll be fine, baby.”

He half mumbles, half kisses her gently in his dark voice, slowly, right over her ear on the spot between her bangs and her temple. She nods, as a natural reaction to him, both eyes still closed. She doesn’t know why, but he’s the only person she believes when he says something like this. Because she knows where it comes from. Because he knows what ‘things not being fine’ is actually like. Not like most people.

Still pressed against his torso, she opens her eyes, not moving a bit. The warm breeze of Italy’s morning air in her face. She’s safe here, in his arms. She’s finally where she was always meant to be.

“I know. I know.” she replies slowly, believes what she says for once, sitting on one of these balcony chairs and being fully sunken into him.

Within a matter of seconds however, the peaceful quiet is over. The big balcony door opens a second time today. Taylor feels him slowly pulling back, ending the hug as Andrea already stands there in the door frame. A little blonde curly-head next to her, who is almost unable to reach Andrea’s hand with this massive height difference between them. Still confidently, he makes his way across the patio door, taking one step after the other, not even stumbling a little bit this time. With a proud smile on her face, Andrea looks at the couple that just ended their hug. She can feel that something is in the air between these two.

“Sorry to interrupt, but someone woke up from their nap and protested for mom and dad.”

Taylor feels another wave of warmth on her chest, but this time, it’s not the sun lighting her up from the sky. It’s his eyes. These tiny green eyes in the smiling face of this little human. The reason that everything makes sense again. The reason, everything had to happen exactly the way it did.

Even before she can react, the curly-haired man next to her seems to have the exact same reaction as her. As loving and happy as always when he interacts with his son, it takes less than a few seconds before he’s picked up the little boy on his green socks, gently throwing the little child up in the air, then picking him up and stealing his chubby cheeks what feels like a million kisses. These little giggles in her ears have the potential to heal her entire soul right there. Andrea notices. She smiles at these two boys, just like Taylor does.

“Mate, it’s almost eleven thirty. Are you a teenager now? Sleeping until noon? Like dad?” he asks his son while standing there with him in his arms, right in front of two of the most important women in his life. Andrea laughs at this comment already, but Taylor still sits there, just looks at her boys with a smile. Marlowe seems to be busy again touching Matty’s tattoos on his arms with his tiny fingers. One of the greatest fascinations this little boy has when being in his dad’s arms. He doesn’t understand yet why his dad has these little drawings under his skin, and everyone else doesn’t.

“Well, if you’re up all night entertaining your parents, then you’ll also sleep until noon I guess.” she says, clearly mocking her little baby on his arms. The tall man in his boxers just laughs at his son on his arm, who looks less interested in these words by his mom than anything else. He seems to have enjoyed the action with his dad from before though. Just points with his finger to the air again. He loves the lemon trees in their yard. Every morning, the two of them go take a look at these trees. He will never forget the little face he made when Taylor gave him a tiny slice of lemon to try. A face for the books. Priceless.

“Mamma..” he suddenly mumbles, his tiny grabby hands pointing to the blonde woman on the chair in front of the breakfast table. It takes less than five seconds and he passes his baby to Taylor, who immediately reaches with her hands across the small body and places him right on her lap. One hand on his chubby warm thigh, the other pressing the little curly head onto her chest. It feels like a reflex, almost. The most natural movement, that only a mother will understand. And Marlowe’s reaction tells her the same. He gets quiet all of the sudden, seems to have returned to his place of safety and comfort. The arms of his mother. His home.

“Do you want to try some melon, honey?” she asks after pressing a kiss onto his head from up where she is. She can feel him reaching for the fruit on her plate, and she patiently hands him a tiny slice. The little boy looks a bit confused at the fruit in his hand, then slowly moves it to his mouth. He touches the sweet fruit with his tiny tongue once. Taylor just watches him carefully, just like Matty does. He’s already laughing at his face. He’s never tried this type of a cantaloupe before.

“I think he likes it.” Andrea says with a smile on her face. Taylor moves her head down, trying to see any type of reaction in Marlowe’s face. He doesn’t look as disgusted as yesterday when she gave him broccoli for the first time. It seems to be pleasant enough for him to continue sucking on the fruit the way he does. With sticky hands she holds the fruit against his mouth again, feeding him carefully to not ruin the little white trousers that Andrea has put him in this morning.

“Do you want some breakfast, Andrea? I can also make you the coffee from yesterday you liked…” Matty says, a hand on her mother’s arm. She loves how close they are, just how close they’ve become in the past years, quietly focuses her gaze on the small creature on her lap. Unreal how much she loves just every single movement this little human makes. Just quietly sits there, on her lap, eating his watermelon with a smacking sound and drooling all over her hands again.

“Oh I’m good, honey.” Andrea answers him, “I was actually going to take him for a walk by the beach before Scott gets here.”

“When does Dad arrive again?” she asks, her head looking up to her mother. Just when she was about to answer is when Marlowe starts shaking his head dramatically.

“What? You don’t like it?” Taylor asks him confused and he just shakes his head enthusiastically. The man standing next to Andrea just breaths out amusedly at his son.

“But you just had half of it?”

Marlowe shakes his head again, so much that he could almost fall off her lap. If he’s got one thing from his mother, it’s the dramatic way of giving answers.

“No.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Let me get you a napkin.” Matty mumbles, disappears inside the villa again. Taylor just looks at her son, manages to reach for his sticky hands right before he was about to touch his tiny shirt. Andrea laughs at the two of them. This little boy needs less than three minutes to turn the entire table into a mess.

“When did he fall asleep last night?”

Taylor sighs, holding his tiny sticky hands in hers, before kissing his head again a few times, patiently waiting for her husband to get back with some kitchen paper.

“Around four in the morning.”

Andrea sighs. “This little night owl.”

Just in this moment, the brown-haired man with the dark brown curls, just like his son but with some grey hair in between, approaches his wife and hands her the kitchen paper. She begins drying the little hands, then thankfully smiles at her mother who takes the boy from her lap again, so that Taylor can clean her own hands too. Sticky hands and eye bags. A normal morning in their house nowadays.

“Are you going to the beach with grandma?” Taylor says excitedly, and Marlowe smiles. She laughs gently at her happy baby.

“Did you use the sunscreen in his room? We also have the little hat from…”

Andrea smiles at her grandson’ father, who’s standing right in front of her, his big hands securely holding these tiny feet he made.

“I’ve raised two children, Matty. I’ve got it all under control.”

Taylor just continues drinking her coffee, has to smirk at her mother lecturing him. He tends to be a little control freak when it comes to Marlowe sometimes. His worst fear constantly being that anything happens to him, or Taylor. A fear that grew in his chest through fatherhood. Maybe it’s because he knows how easy it is to make a mistake that can impact your entire life. Maybe it’s because the moment Marlowe opened his eyes, he knew he’s got a reason to be better.

“Mom, I have a meeting at eleven, and..” Taylor turns her head to look at her husband, “When are you leaving again?”

With a sigh escaping his mouth, he puts down his coffee mug one more time this morning, then takes another look at his phone on the table next to him.

“I’m leaving for the airport around 1.”

Andrea nods.

“So you can still say goodbye to your dad when we get back, Marly!” The blonde grandmother whispers into her grandson’s ear. The little boy doesn’t really seem to understand. “Just one night without daddy. Just one.” she adds in a cooing voice, but Marlowe doesn’t seem to really care, is busy moving his little chubby legs on her arms.

“Let me open the gate for you guys..” the grown curly-head says, signaling Taylor to remain seated. She still gets up once, mumbles a little ‘have fun with grandma, baby’ into these chubby cheeks, then watches the three of them disappear inside the house again. She takes a few steps onto the balcony rail, just stands there in the shade for a few moments. Her hands on the cold metal, her bare feet on the sun-warmed tiles. She’s still nervous at the thought of before. Secretly wishes he would finally come back now, so they have clarity for once.

Taylor notices how she starts biting her lip again. She needs to stop doing that whenever her anxieties creep up again.

Within a few moments, she suddenly feels a different sensation. Two hands hugging her from behind. One hand that lands on her bare stomach under her tank top. The other one gently wrapped around her torso. She moves her head to the side to face him, but he’s faster, already presses a few gentle kisses onto her side. She turns around, was just about to ask him to go take the test from the bathroom sink when she sees what he’s holding in his hand. For a second, she feels her throat tightening. Only then she realizes that he didn’t look at the result either yet. Right in the palm of his closed hand, he holds the pregnancy test. And he’s as nervous as she is. Taylor feels the metal railing in her back. His still empty hand steady on her naked skin.

“Did you..?”

“I didn’t. Let’s do this together, love.”

Taylor nods, and he can feel her anxiety in his throat. She looks terrified, and he knows why. After two miscarriages, a dozen shots of hormones in the mornings and sheer disappointment month after month, this isn’t as joyful anymore as it used to be.

“It’s negative. I know it. I feel it..”

“Shush.” he says, a grin on his lips again. She just sighs.

“Okay, you take a look and just…tell me.” she says, her arms crossed now. Her palms are sweaty. Her heart beats to her throat. She just looks at the forty year old with a worrisome face. He strokes the skin on her bare arm once, gives her one last reassuring look, before he then takes a look at the test in his hand. She doesn’t even look at it. Only looks at his face. He’s quiet for a second, then looks back at her face.

“It’s negative.”

She doesn’t say anything, just nods. She knew it. She knew that this was her last attempt at having another baby. She never thought it would haunt her this much. The fact that it’s over. That Marlowe will most likely have to grow up without a sibling. That she will never experience this miracle again, with the love of her life. She just swallows, nods again and again. Her arms still crossed. Matty immediately takes a few steps back, then places the little plastic test on the table next to him just to make sure he has both his hands free. Free to wrap them around the blonde woman as tight as humanly possible. And so they stand there. Barefoot on the warm balcony floor, her hands around his back, his holding her head as tightly to his chest as he can. It’s almost as if he would try to squeeze the sadness out of her. His arm stroking her back up and down, just like he did years ago when she got off stage, only to learn that one of the most influential people in her life has passed away. Just like he did back then, when she was in her twenties and crying over some guy who broke her heart not once, but twice.

Matty moves his hand, strokes her hair to the side, then presses a long and gentle kiss onto her head.

“We’ll just keep trying, baby. It’s gonna work out.” he whispers, his accent thicker than usual, and slowly lets go to be able to take a good look at her. She doesn’t look into his eyes, just looks down and nods slowly. She doesn’t believe him, and he knows.

“At least we have one baby. Some people don’t have any…”

“Hey, look at me.”

He places both hands on her cheeks, forces her to look at him. She’s scared, and he knows that look too well.

“Marly will have a sibling. And we will have another baby. I promise.” he takes a pause. A warm breeze blowing her hair to the side.

“Believe me?”

She nods. Not sure if she just did to make him happy, or in order to make herself believe that he’s right. He comes closer to her, kisses her lips gently. For the first time, today. She tastes like the sweet melon she had a few moments ago. His fingertips touching the ends of her bangs.

“I love you.”

Taylor smiles, just nods when he automatically gets closer again to kiss her forehead, right above the messed up bangs once. They fall into another hug, Taylor doesn’t say anything else. He hates feeling her pain. He hates this so much.

“You told me yesterday that you and Jack wanted to work on some stuff next week. How about I try to reschedule my session in London next week, and we all fly out to New York and I work from home with our little buddy? And you can take the week to work with Jack in the studio. What do you think?”

She smiles. He knows her so so well. So well, that he knows that the only thing soothing her now is work. Music. The thing she considers the first love of her life. Taylor nods, her hands touching his stubbly cheek once. Never did she think they’d get to this point. Never did she think he’d be the only thing she ever got right in this life.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to..”

“Hey, no big deal. I can reschedule easily. So..”

“Matt..”

He looks at her awaiting a reaction. She never calls him by his actual name. Both their eyes meet and he gets the same goosebumps as he did fifteen years ago, for the very first time.

“What if..” she stops. She fears saying these words. He feels it right away. She still stands there, back against the balcony railing, hair as curly as always in this humidity, her hands this time on his arms.

“What?”

She sighs. One look into his eyes is enough to know that there’s nothing she can’t tell him.

“What if we will only ever have one baby? What if it doesn’t…? What do we do, if..”

“You want to know what we do if it’s only you, Marly and me?” she looks at him with big eyes, seems to genuinely want an answer from him. But all she gets is the most honest look that a human can carry. Mixed with his kind eyes, that hug her soul from within. His eyes have the ability to tell her so much, without him using a single word. He worships her. He will never not love her, because she really did change his life. She did change him, pulled him out of the darkest dark just with being who she is.

“Then it’s us three. Taking on the world. Like the three musketeers.”

She looks into his face, their foreheads touching already. She nods slowly. She likes that thought. She likes the safety that comes with it. The first time in her life that it’s not a boyfriend, a partner, or just her lover standing in front of her and saying these loving words to her. It hits different, because it’s him. Not someone she met and fell for, a bad decision that led to another backdoor romance and that ended in sobbing cries and trust issues on end. It’s someone who utterly, completely, and unmistakably knows her. Her, her baggage, her past, and everything in between. And so does she. She’s seen him at his lowest, and still chose to see the best in him. Always.

His hand reaches for hers and they intertwine them carefully. She doesn’t say anything else, just appreciates his face that gets closer to her head again. These familiar lips that land on her forehead again, and the smell in her nose that truly feels like home in her heart. She’s glad that her mother is out for a walk with Marly. She needs this moment with him alone. She needed it more than she thought, after being apart for a week.

“We’ll be just fine, baby. If I know one thing about us, it’s that we’ll be just fine. Because there’s nothing..” he whispers, then takes a pause that makes her almost emotional. She doesn’t know why, but something in her tells her that she better soak this moment in. Soak it in, hold onto it, never let it go, and stick with it forever. Her hands hold onto him even tighter. They haven’t moved in minutes.

“There’s nothing that could ever come between us, baby.”

She buries her face once more in his arms, breathes him in. It’s been so many times in her life, when she said those words to people she now considers strangers. It’s been so many times in her life, when she’s heard those words, begging, wishing for them to come true, only to find that they were the reflection of a moment in time. But with him, right here, it feels like a lifetime. He steals her cheek one last kiss, then slowly ends the hug with her.

“Let me get you some of the cornetto di chociolate I got yesterday. You need it. You deserve it.” he says, his horrible Italian pronounciaton already making her laugh. In his grey boxers, the white shirt he slept in and his curly hair in all directions he smiles at her one last time, then leaves the patio.

_______________

“What does the little duckie say?” she asks, both hands with a firm grip around the tiny torso. She moves her legs up and down in the pool, enjoys the warmth of the summer sun on her skin whilst getting the perfect refreshment by splashing her legs into the pool. The little curly-haired boy on her lap, learning forward with fascination on his face, just splashing his tiny hands on top of the water in the pool. She can’t help but laugh, because the little floating duck that Matty got him last month doesn’t seem to interest him at all anymore. Instead, he’s all about making the refreshing water splash as much as possible with his small hands. And Taylor lets him. It was smart of her to change into her bikini before sitting by the pool with this little rascal.

“Is that so fun?” she says, already laughing at her son. He stops for a second, looks up at his mom then. Drops of water running down his chubby cheek. Taylor steals the little man a big kiss. The little blue hat he wears makes his chubby face even cuter than she thought was possible.

“Are you tired, honey?” she says to him quietly, can see his eyes getting a bit smaller and his tiny body losing some of his balance. A clear sign that someone’s in need of a nap. Taylor adjusts him on her arms, slowly and carefully gets up from the poolside where she was just sitting at and makes her way back to one of the sun beds. She moves her sunglasses from her eyes to the top of her head, then reaches for one of the towels that she wraps the little boy on her arms in. He doesn’t seem too impressed by Taylor drying his little arms, just patiently remains on her arm. He then slowly places his head on her shoulder. She knew he was exhausted. A mother’s intuition is never wrong.

“I know. Let’s take a nap, baby. I need one, too.” she whispers, her hand already protectively on his little head, her lips pressing the most gentle kisses onto the little head. She carefully sits down on the sun bed, happy that she’s now in the shade, right under the big umbrella. It really has gotten hot in the midday sun, hot but also gloomy. A type of weather they barely have whenever they stay in their Italian home. The sky’s grey already and she almost feels like it’s starting to rain soon. She’s even more thankful to be sitting here under the big umbrella that shields the both of them from the few drops of rain that are now visible in the pool. Her son chose the perfect timing for his little afternoon nap. Taylor slowly leans back, adjusts the baby on her chest. He already fights sleep, and Taylor is glad. She could need a nap herself after last night. She carefully wraps the towel around herself, making sure the little wet body is covered. Both hands around the tiny body over the towel, her lips whispering sweet nothings into the little damp head full of curly hair, gently kissing him to sleep.

It takes less than five minutes and the most heartwarming baby snores are audible in her ears. His snores, and the soft rain on the umbrella above her. There’s nothing as refreshing as the light rain in the hot midday sun. She smiles silently, both hands still around the little body, her lips still glued to his head. Unbelievable how much peace she’s found on this crazy journey called motherhood. Unbelievable that she’s found this peace with the person she least expected it with.

Taylor’s head falls back, her arms still wrapped around her baby while she allows herself to closer her eyes, too.

Peace.

Finally.

The patio door opens and she hears a few pairs of feet on the green grass of her garden. A little confused, she opens her eyes first, then lifts her head and turns to where the sound comes from. And then, everything speeds up. Everything speeds up, but slows down at the same time. The rain has stopped, even though a dark grey layer of clouds now fills the sky. She can see her parents walking towards her. Tears in her father’s eyes. Andrea’s sobs in her ears now. Tree walks right next to them, and a stranger too. She doesn’t know what has happened, but the only thing she feels herself doing is holding onto the little sleepy bundle in her arms even tighter than before. Almost as if she knew. The next thing she perceives is her father carefully reaching for the sleeping baby in her arms. She hates to let go, but feels her stomach dropping by the look into her mother’s eyes. He gently takes the warm baby from her chest, leaving her cold and alone. She catches one last look of her father carrying the little boy inside, then turns her head back to her crying mother, not knowing yet that this will be one of the moment changing her life forever. She hears her crying words. She feels Tree’s and her hands holding hers, frantically. Almost as if they would want to try to keep her from falling over, right here. She hears her mother’s words but then again, they won’t reach her mind. There’s been an accident. The doctors have tried everything they can. He’s been brought to the hospital, but it doesn’t look good. She’s so sorry. She’s so so sorry.

Taylor still doesn’t seem to comprehend, still sits right there on the same sun bed she’s just watched her child fall asleep on. Holding him in her arms, thanking god for bringing peace into her life. She still doesn’t understand, feels two set of hands caressing her from both sides. Destroyed and crying faces staring into hers. She doesn’t understand. It’s impossible. They can’t be talking about him. Him. Her everything. The blonde woman looks from Tree, back to her mother, then to the stranger next to them, right by their poolside. She shakes her head, feels the realization of these news sink into her bones. She feels sick all of the sudden, a wave of sharp pain erupting in her chest and spreading throughout her entire body. She starts shaking, her heartbeat rising instantly. She shakes her head again and again, unable to accept whatever has just been said to her. Andrea gets up, starts hugging her daughter, but she still just shakes her head. Shakes her head again and again until sharp cries slowly escape her mouth. Sharp cries that turn into desperate screams that echo through the entire house, up until the front yard, down the hills of Portofino and right to the rest of the world…

To be continued.

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