Nora
The procession stops and the music falls silent.
Even the air seems still on this spring day, but the wind cuts my face, cold as a blade.
My feet feel like they've lost circulation, because I can't take a step beyond the white line.
My brother Gianni nods at me, but I can't make a single movement.
I remain motionless here, on a damp patch of ground that smells of frost and freshly cut grass.
"Nora!"
My mother's call is more heartfelt, but I stare at her as if I don't recognize her.
She's aged years in a week. Her hair has been styled by the hairdresser, but it seems to refuse to hold its shape. Her pale face reflects all the pain of this moment.
I shake my head slowly and lower it, staring at my polished shoes.
I won't cross this line.
If I did, I'd have to admit that Adriano...
I take a deep breath and hold back tears.
An arm wraps around my waist, and I recognize the roughness of his dark coat.
Zuri.
I bury my face in his shoulder and hold back tears.
"Dear brothers, we are gathered here to say our last farewell to our late son Adriano..."
The priest's words dig into my soul, and I grit my teeth.
No, I won't say goodbye to my brother.
I can't.
I mustn't.
Saying goodbye would mean letting him go to an unknown, dark, and lonely place.
And Adriano is afraid of the dark.
He only sleeps with the light on.
He's always done it, since we were little.
I was the one who held his hand when he was afraid.
I was the one who defended him from bullies when they teased him for his beautiful dark curls, worn too long.
It was me... his twin.
Zuri's arm grows heavier on my shoulder, and I realize I'm sobbing.
I stifle the pain, ashamed of myself.
My mother is devastated by the pain, but she manages to maintain a composure that I lack.
All around me is a buzz of people whispering, taking photos, and commenting.
Journalists.
I'm providing the gossip they needed, the one I promised myself I wouldn't.
But the pain is destroying me, and I can't think rationally.
"Take her to the car, please."
It's my uncle Marco's voice.
Zuri nods and drags me toward the cemetery path, but I brace myself so I don't stray.
"No, no... I..."
"Nora," he whispers in my ear, "You won't bring him back. Come away with me, please."
I shake my head again, but I meet my father's piercing eyes.
Go!
His command stops me, and with a choked throat, I lower my gaze and follow my friend.
I drag my feet across the cobblestones strewn with fallen leaves, my heart heavy as a stone.
Only when I reach the car and am about to open the door do I look up.
And I see him.
He's standing at the edge of the road, next to a centuries-old tree, hidden from everyone.
My heart fills with pent-up anger, and I sprint toward him.
"Nora!"
Zuri's call doesn't stop me, as I quickly close the meters separating us and rush toward him like a tornado.
"You! How dare you?"
Stephen doesn't look me in the face, he lets me shake him without reacting.
His face is pale, there's nothing left of the smile that had bewitched me.
"Stop it, Nora, it's not his fault!"
Zuri tries to free the tails of his coat from my hands, which have gripped him like claws.
"He could have let him pass! He could have avoided chasing him, but he didn't! Why? Why?"
"Because it's racing, Nora. And I was doing my part."
His voice is flat, almost monotonous, when he answers and stares into my eyes.
I'm stunned and take a step back.
"Racing is life, not death," I reply softly. "You... you traded his life for a victory that wasn't yours."
He shakes his head, his eyes watering.
"You think I wanted my best friend dead? Is that what you're saying?"
"Yes, I am!"
It's a game of deadly stares between us, a battle neither of us wants to lose.
"How can you...?"
His voice sounds desperate, but I don't want to be convinced.
"Go away, Steve, and don't you dare come back here! If you show up again, I'll kill you!"
I clench my fists and turn my back on him, starting to run toward the parked car.
I have time to take refuge behind the tinted windows before a barrage of flashbulbs rain down on me like hail.
I put a handkerchief over my mouth and start to cry.