The Giorgetti compound was just as Ferris remembered it. The grounds occupied an entire city block, a stone manor sheathed in hedges and iron fencing. Security cameras hung like fruit in an orchard, observing every nook and cranny with a single blinking eye. With such a surplus of enemies, one could never be too careful.<\/p>\n
Demos and Ferris were in a bedroom on the second floor, one which the young Italian had recently taken up permanent residence in. He had claimed that, upon leaving high school, he was too old to continue living with his uncle. Ferris had decided not to mention that living with his grandfather wasn\u2019t much of an improvement, socially. This was perhaps because, upon returning to Southport, Ferris had yet to find a suitable apartment and was currently living with his mother.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen you say everyone will be at dinner,\u201d Ferris said, buttoning his shirt in front of a mirror, \u201cdo you mean\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d Demos cut in with a wave of his hand. \u201cEveryone<\/i>. Even Nonna is coming in from Italy.\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Ferris had never met Demos\u2019 grandmother. While Gino seemed intent on running the family\u2019s enterprise in the States, Isabella Giorgetti had insisted on remaining in Verona to manage their remaining assets.<\/p>\n
\u201cPermanently?\u201d Ferris asked, glancing over his shoulder.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019re pulling out of Italy \u2014 for the most part. Nonno\u2019s brother is going to run what\u2019s left, but it looks like the States are more profitable for now.\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos was sitting on the bed, leaning back on his hands and scrutinizing his friend\u2019s every move. His scowl had worsened with each passing minute and he bit his lower lip as he struggled to stay patient. Finally, he could no longer hold his tongue.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you seriously going to wear that shirt?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d Ferris groaned, holding his hands out in protest. \u201cIt\u2019s a plain white shirt.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt doesn\u2019t fit you,\u201d Demos huffed, closing his eyes as if talking to a toddler. \u201cThe sleeves are too long and it\u2019s billowing above your belt. I told you<\/i> not to go shopping without me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is exactly why I don\u2019t<\/i> go shopping with you.\u201d<\/p>\n
With an exasperated sigh, Demos crossed the room to rummage through a walnut wardrobe. He muttered to himself as he shuffled through a shopping bag, rustling tissue paper in irritation.<\/p>\n
\u201cHere. This was going to be for your birthday, but this is an emergency,\u201d he said, offering a folded dress shirt with both hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cI would hardly qualify a dinner party as an emergency,\u201d Ferris mumbled. \u201cBut thanks.\u201d<\/p>\n
He examined the shirt with a squint. It was sharp and neat, made with gray patterned cotton by an Italian tailor.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe collar is a little wide, so use a half-Windsor.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI wouldn\u2019t dream of doing otherwise,\u201d Ferris replied, setting it down on the dresser to remove the offensive monstrosity he was currently wearing. As the shirt came off, he could see Demos go still in the mirror\u2019s reflection.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s\u2014\u201c Ferris started, but paused when he noticed his friend\u2019s eyes. They had fallen on his side, or, more specifically, the pink burn scar that resided there. The mark ran from his upper thigh to his ribs, the skin textured and sunken. It was large and imposing, a permanent snapshot of an old memory.<\/p>\n
Demos had seen the scar before, but his reaction was always the same. The Ghost would fall silent, his eyes tightening and spine weakening with guilt. Ferris hurried to replace the shirt, sliding his arms into the crisp new sleeves and drawing the buttons together from top to bottom.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow does it look?\u201d Ferris asked, attempting to distract his friend.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2026It\u2019s perfect,\u201d Demos said, his voice soft as he forced a tiny smile. \u201cBut you can\u2019t wear that belt with black shoes.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris slumped over the dresser, ready to smother his companion with a pillow.<\/p>\n
After another few minutes of fussing, Ferris seemed to have met Demos\u2019 standards \u2014 barely. He rubbed the back of his neck, noticing his own frown in the mirror.<\/p>\n
\u201cUm\u2026 I was wondering,\u201d Ferris said, avoiding eye contact.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIs\u2026 is Emily coming, too?\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos looked down at the wooden floor. Emily hadn\u2019t been in Southport for the last year, having spent her final few semesters abroad in Italy. Part of Ferris wondered if she had left because he had returned \u2014 the timing was uncanny, but realized he might be overrating his relevance in her life.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2026Yes. But\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cBut what?\u201d Ferris asked, turning to face the other.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t expect much. She\u2019s changed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh,\u201d Ferris murmured in response. He closed his eyes for a moment, then moved to sit beside his friend on the bed. For a while, he didn\u2019t move, only looking down at the hands folded between his knees.<\/p>\n
\u201cDoes she still hate me?\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos didn\u2019t respond. He either didn\u2019t know the answer, or didn\u2019t want to hurt Ferris with the truth. Though her and Ferris\u2019 relationship had been secret, Demos had managed to weasel a confession out of her shortly after Ferris\u2019 departure.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t worry about it,\u201d Demos said after a moment. \u201cJust try to enjoy yourself.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris gave a stiff nod, unable to look away from his clasped hands. The room was suddenly overwhelming, bearing down on him with its fine wainscoting and dark, textured wallpaper. It was quite different from the room Demos had used in Victor\u2019s home. It had been embellished with photographs and fashion magazines, its furnishings simple and modern \u2014 the room of a teenager. This new room, his space in the manor, was old and elegant, laid out with carved wood and patterned curtains.<\/p>\n
\u201cLook on the bright side \u2014 you get to see Benny again,\u201d the Italian added.<\/p>\n
\u201cBenny and Gina are back?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m trying to be positive here \u2014 leave Gina out of it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris finally laughed, his smile easing the stiffness in the air. \u201cIs he still tall as hell?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStupid tall. He\u2019s going to have to bend down to kiss you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know, when you see him,\u201d Demos said with a shrug.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMm, ah\u2026 right. That\u2019s an Italian thing. Wait, you\u2019ve never done it, have you?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris shook his head, his stomach growing progressively more knotted.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, don\u2019t be so scared. It\u2019s simple. Just kiss the right cheek, then the left. But you don\u2019t really use your lips\u2026 you kind of just brush cheeks and making a kissing sound.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat doesn\u2019t sound simple at all,\u201d Ferris said, his frown slowly creeping back.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re lucky we\u2019re Italian. In some places they do it three or four times.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo wonder Europeans never get anything done.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris was immediately rewarded with a swat on the back of his head. Though he cursed under his breath, his smile only widened.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, you got it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cUm\u2026\u201d Ferris said, nervously covering his mouth with his palm. \u201cI\u2026 I guess so.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you want to try it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat, now<\/i>?\u201d Ferris sputtered, his eyes darting towards his painfully nonchalant companion.<\/p>\n
\u201cHere,\u201d Demos said, shifting himself so he could face the taller man. \u201cLook at me.\u201d<\/p>\n
The bed shifted as he folded his leg beneath his knee. Ferris followed suit, clearing his throat as he attempted to retain his posture.<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay. I\u2019m looking at you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRemember,\u201d Demos added, lifting his chin as he leaned in. \u201cRight, then le\u2014 ow!\u201d<\/p>\n
The two had unceremoniously bumped foreheads halfway through the motion, leaving Ferris flushed in embarrassment and Demos hunched forth in pain.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour other<\/i> right,\u201d Demos hissed, rubbing his sore temple.<\/p>\n
\u201cSorry. I\u2019m not used to this.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGod, you\u2019re so <\/i>American,\u201d he said, giving an exaggerated eye roll.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re<\/i> American, too.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI have dual citizenship,\u201d Demos replied with a smug grin. \u201cI can be whatever I\u2019m in the mood for.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t know they issued passports in the Republic of Dicks.\u201d<\/p>\n
This earned him yet another smack on his head.<\/p>\n
By the time the sun set, the driveway of the compound was lined with cars. Ferris recognized nearly every face, though some were more familiar than others. There was, of course, Gino \u2014 the head of the Giorgetti family and their affairs in the States. It was he who had brought them to Southport, carefully planning and anticipating to build their efforts from a small-time racket to a powerful empire. He, his sons, and now his grandsons, had all been carefully positioned and primed to ensure a tenacious hierarchy.<\/p>\n
Gino recieved his wife with open arms, embracing her amidst affectionate kisses. Isabella was an elegant woman, her white hair falling in a curled sweep to her jawline. Her dress and shawl were black, accented by a trail of long, polished pearls around her neck.<\/p>\n
\u201cMi sei mancato cos\u00ec tanto,\u201d she hummed against the man\u2019s ear, receiving a knowing smile in return. Ferris struggled to translate the buzz of Italian filling the air, suddenly wishing that he hadn\u2019t switched to French in his first year of college. Just as he was beginning to recall his disastrous attempts at cheek kissing, Gino caught his eye.<\/p>\n
Luckily, the woman introduced herself with a handshake, placing a warm palm over Ferris\u2019 knuckles.<\/p>\n
\u201cI have heard so much about you,\u201d she said, her voice like precise, polished bronze.<\/p>\n
\u201cPiacere,\u201d he replied, surprised at how much her tone calmed him.<\/p>\n
\u201cMolto lieta.\u201d<\/p>\n
His moment of fortuitous serenity was decimated as another half dozen family members poured in through the entrance.<\/p>\n
\u201cFish! I can not believe it. You are return!\u201d<\/p>\n
Beniamino, better known as Benny, swept Ferris up in a pair of terribly muscled arms, placing a kiss on each cheek before he could say a word in return. It had all happened so fast that there was no time to stammer \u2014 not even a moment to attempt to remember the motions. It was over.<\/p>\n
\u201cBenny,\u201d Ferris said, straightening his glasses as he exhaled in relief. \u201cYou look amazing.\u201d<\/p>\n
Compared to the last time they had met, Benny did indeed look rather spectacular. Chemotherapy had borne down on the man rather cruelly, leaving him gaunt and weak. At the moment, however, Benny was sporting a full head of thick, curly hair and a barrel chest that could likely stop an oncoming car.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d Benny nodded, shamelessly stroking his own squared chin. \u201cI do!\u201d<\/p>\n
It was then that Benny\u2019s sister, and physical opposite, brushed past. Gina was slim and stringent, her skin three shades lighter than her sibling\u2019s and her demeanor twice as cold.<\/p>\n
\u201cCiao,\u201d was all she said to Ferris, barely making eye contact before disappearing into the dining room.<\/p>\n
\u201cI missed you, too,\u201d Ferris muttered, earning a laugh and a slap on the shoulder from Benny.<\/p>\n
From across the foyer, he could see Demos embracing one of his aunts, his speech drowned out by the thrum of voices between them. Yet, somehow, the sounds all stopped when he saw a new figure enter the house. He could see her just over Demos\u2019 shoulder, smiling as she accepted a kiss from her father. Ferris\u2019 ears seemed to have stopped working, leaving him enveloped in silence as he watched Emily turn away from the door. She shifted, finally facing him, close enough that there wasn\u2019t a soul between their bodies.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily.\u201d<\/p>\n
Before the word could even complete itself, her eyes had flickered away. She walked past him \u2014 no smile, no nod \u2014 not a single word. He stared at the spot where she had been as the chatter and rattle of dishes once again filled his ears.<\/p>\n
He felt a tug; Demos had found him, wrapping his fingers around Ferris\u2019 arm. The Ghost brushed his thumb over the underside of Ferris\u2019 wrist, carefully bringing him back down to earth.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou okay?\u201d he asked, his voice gentle.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah,\u201d Ferris replied, the word dry as it escaped his throat. \u201cI\u2019m fine.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dinner began with wine, followed by an antipasto of marbled prosciutto and pesto crostini. Ferris took his usual place beside Demos, on autopilot as he made small talk. His mouth held no connection to his brain, moving on its own as he spoke about his final year at Yale and the grind of his new job. He was beginning to lose focus, barely noticing as a bowl of soup was placed before him. The scent of escarole drifted below, begging for his attention as his eyes wandered once again three seats down. Emily was pointedly facing the other direction, doing everything in her power to avoid his side of the table \u2014 it was probably hurting her neck.<\/p>\n
\u201cEat your soup,\u201d came Demos\u2019 voice from his left. Ferris forced himself to look away, catching the look of pained offense on his friend\u2019s face.<\/p>\n
\u201cI made it,\u201d Demos added, showing with a simple crease of his lips that his hard work had better not go to waste. Ferris closed his eyes, responding with a faint smile before lifting his spoon to follow orders.<\/p>\n
He had missed his friend\u2019s cooking. Demos was just as particular about his food as he was with his wardrobe. Where others might have a passion for dance, travel, or \u2018doing the right thing,\u2019 Demos held a profound love for sweet basil \u2014 for paring knives and subtle drizzles of olive oil. As the curved rim of the spoon reached his lips, Ferris could taste it \u2014 in the hints of garlic and fresh Parmesan, he could taste his friend\u2019s absurd infatuation with food.<\/p>\n
\u201cFuck,\u201d he muttered, sucking his lower lip. Demos said nothing, only smirking to himself before returning his attention to his wine.<\/p>\n
It was only when Ferris heard the scrape of chair legs that he remembered where he was. He glanced up just in time to watch Emily leave the table, exiting through the arch into the foyer. He waited a moment, then stood.<\/p>\n
Ferris slunk down the empty hall, flanked by oil paintings and brass knobs. A door clicked open through the back \u2014 she must have gone into the yard.<\/p>\n
His feet stopped beside the threshold. He could see her past the paned windows, hugging her elbows against the cool night air. She looked remarkably different, yet he couldn\u2019t place the reason. Her acorn brown hair was still short, but now set in a more mature bob. Perhaps it was the years showing in her eyes \u2014 the ones that he had missed in his absence.<\/p>\n
Ferris took a breath, then stepped outside.<\/p>\n
The moment the door opened, she looked over, her jaw tight with panic. With a sharp intake of air, she turned to leave, bumping his shoulder as she retreated towards the door.<\/p>\n
\u201cWait,\u201d he blurted, reaching forth, then changing his mind. \u201cWait, please. I just want to ask you one thing.\u201d<\/p>\n
She put her hand on the doorknob.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily,\u201d he begged, his fingernails digging into his palms.<\/p>\n
The air between them was silent. He ignored the prickling in his hands, holding his breath as he watched her think. Finally, her hand dropped from the knob.<\/p>\n
\u201cMake it quick,\u201d she muttered.<\/p>\n
Relieved, and quite a bit surprised, he attempted to gather his thoughts. There was only one question in his mind.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy are you pretending I\u2019m not even here?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy do you think?\u201d she replied, still refusing to make eye contact.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d he sighed, running a hand through his shortly cropped hair. \u201cYou\u2019re mad because I left?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m mad at you because you left,\u201d she echoed, her tone as dry as summer pavement. \u201cReally?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Emily only scoffed, folding her arms more tightly across her chest.<\/p>\n
\u201cTell me,\u201d he repeated. \u201cAt least give me some kind of closure.\u201d<\/p>\n
This didn\u2019t appear to be the right thing to say.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, like the closure you gave me<\/i>?\u201d she spat, her eyes snapping up to meet his. Her glare startled him and for a moment he forgot how to speak.<\/p>\n
\u201cEmily,\u201d he said, finally finding his voice. \u201cThat was years ago. We were teenagers.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe went through so much together,\u201d Emily said, trying to swallow a croak. \u201cAnd then, suddenly\u2026 \u2018Here\u2019s a bag of Demos\u2019 shit. By the way, I\u2019m leaving forever.\u2019 And you were gone, just like that<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n
She embellished her words with a snap of her fingers.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou weren\u2019t even upset about it,\u201d she continued. The dam restraining her emotions seemed to have collapsed. \u201cIt was so easy for you. It took me forever to get used to the idea of never seeing you again. And then\u2026 then you just waltz back into our lives when it\u2019s convenient for you. When you missed him<\/i> too much.\u201d<\/p>\n
She gestured towards the house, though it was obvious who \u2018him<\/i>\u2019 was.<\/p>\n
\u201cEasy? You think it was easy<\/i>? I never stopped thinking about you\u2026 about you, everyone\u2026 about this stupid city. About\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
He sucked in his next breath through his teeth, his eyes clenching shut.<\/p>\n
\u201cI missed you,\u201d he murmured, \u201cand I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t lie to me,\u201d she seethed. \u201cYou came back for him. Not me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris didn\u2019t reply, suddenly unable to look her in the eye.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah. That\u2019s what I thought,\u201d Emily sneered.<\/p>\n
Ferris\u2019 hands fisted at his sides. He attempted to speak, swallowed his words, then tried again.<\/p>\n
\u201cAll right,\u201d he answered, his voice hardening. \u201cFine. Hate me. But at least be civil with me when we\u2019re around others. We\u2019re adults now.\u201d<\/p>\n
His eyes rose, narrowed behind the frames of his glasses.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou should act like one,\u201d he continued.<\/p>\n
Emily brushed her sleeve, then forced a tense nod. \u201cBut don\u2019t try to chat me up.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFine,\u201d he said through his teeth, then turned to go back inside. He couldn\u2019t take another second of her voice. As his feet swept over the hallway rug, a buzzing began to swell in the back of his skull. Everything was white, too bright to focus on and too fuzzy to discern. There was so much noise in his head that he couldn\u2019t possibly have noticed Emily wiping her eyes beside the window.<\/p>\n
When Ferris found his seat at the dinner table, the second course was nearly finished. Demos shot him a sideways look. Ferris only scowled, shaking his head as he slumped into his chair. The Italian went back to his braised pork without protest. He hadn\u2019t expected much else.<\/p>\n
Though the baccala on his plate had been prepared specifically for him, Ferris had lost his appetite. He instead developed an intimate relationship with the nearest bottle of Amarone. By the time dessert was served, he had lost count of the glasses he\u2019d consumed.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy head hurts,\u201d Ferris groaned, his breath still reeking of wine despite the dinner party being long finished. He slouched on the sofa, dramatically burying his face in both hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour head always hurts,\u201d Demos said with an eye roll. \u201cAnd maybe you shouldn\u2019t have started drinking like it\u2019s going out of style.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris\u2019 response was nothing more then a dismissive wave and an unapologetic groan. Demos threw up his hands, gesturing in irritation to an audience of no one before leaving the room. Only a moment passed before he returned, sitting beside his friend and offering a tall glass.<\/p>\n
\u201cHave some water,\u201d he said, placing the cup on Ferris\u2019 wobbling hands. \u201cAh, careful.\u201d<\/p>\n
With a mumble of thanks, Ferris lifted the glass, nursing the drink with a childish glower. The sitting room was dim, illuminated by a single table lamp. The rest of the manor was already dark.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did she say to you?\u201d Demos finally asked, leaning forward as he lit a cigarette.<\/p>\n
\u201cNothing,\u201d Ferris answered, sliding further down in his seat.<\/p>\n
\u201cSit up, you idiot. Tell me what happened.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe hates me,\u201d he said, his voice muffled against the rim of the glass. \u201cI\u2019d never seen her so pissed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, she\u2019s been grouchier since she started school.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat the hell is she majoring in, anyway?\u201d Ferris slurred, nearly spilling his water. \u201cBeing shitty?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSort of,\u201d Demos said with a smirk. \u201cLaw.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGreat.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, maybe now you can move on and start dating. You\u2019ve been single since high school.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd deal with all that shit again? Sometimes I can see why you like men.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHah,\u201d Demos said, grinning as he exhaled a waft of smoke. \u201cSorry, Fish. Men are even bigger drama queens than women.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris scoffed, setting his cup down on the coffee table. He still felt dizzy and placed both hands on the edge of the couch to steady himself.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe was right, though,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n
\u201cAbout what?\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris looked at his empty glass, wishing that his head didn\u2019t feel so heavy. It felt as if it might snap off of his neck.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2026Nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n
Demos watched his friend for a while, taking in the flush in his cheeks and the wavering in his posture.<\/p>\n
\u201cWant me to talk to her?\u201d he offered.<\/p>\n
\u201cFuck her,\u201d Ferris grumbled, finally collapsing forward onto his knees. \u201cI don\u2019t care.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll ask you again when you\u2019re sober.\u201d<\/p>\n
When Ferris finally was sober, it was Sunday afternoon and he was in a warm, rumpled bed. It seemed he had stayed the night at the Giorgetti compound. With some effort, he sat upright, rubbing his face with a hand. He still had a headache.<\/p>\n
Eventually, he made his way downstairs, instinctively following the scent of espresso. Sure enough, Demos was seated on a barstool with two cappuccinos on the kitchen counter.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere\u2019s Gino?\u201d Ferris asked, wearily scratching the back of his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe took Nonna out for brunch. I stayed behind to babysit.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow sweet,\u201d he replied, taking a seat and crumpling onto the countertop. His glasses sat tilted over his nose and bits of dark hair stuck up on the back of his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re sexy in the morning,\u201d Demos said, sipping from his cup.<\/p>\n
\u201cShut up,\u201d Ferris grumbled. The cappuccino saucer scraped the counter as he dragged it closer. \u201cWhat happened last night? I don\u2019t remember getting into bed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI helped you upstairs,\u201d he explained. \u201cBut that was before you got on your phone and ordered flowers for Emily.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?<\/i>\u201d Ferris blurted, the cup jerking in his hands. \u201cWhy didn\u2019t you stop<\/i> me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI tried, but you said it was your money and for me to stop telling you what to do and\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cChrist, I\u2019m stupid,\u201d Ferris interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, pretty much.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ferris\u2019 eyes screwed shut and he waited before daring to ask one last thing.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow much were they?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201c$250.\u201d<\/p>\n
Wordlessly, Ferris let his forehead drop back onto the counter, rattling the ceramic cups in their saucers.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The Giorgetti compound was just as Ferris remembered it. The grounds occupied an entire city block, a stone manor sheathed in hedges and iron fencing. Security cameras hung like fruit in an orchard, observing every nook and cranny with a single blinking eye. With such a surplus of enemies, one could never be too careful. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-216","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fishbones-book-02"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4oWx8-3u","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/216","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=216"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/216\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":590,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/216\/revisions\/590"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=216"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=216"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=216"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}