{"id":808,"date":"2021-09-15T18:48:57","date_gmt":"2021-09-15T18:48:57","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/?p=808"},"modified":"2021-09-22T16:40:56","modified_gmt":"2021-09-22T16:40:56","slug":"fishbones-book-i-chapter-10-summer","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/2021\/09\/fishbones-book-i-chapter-10-summer\/","title":{"rendered":"Fishbones Book I \u2013 Chapter 10: Summer"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

\"\"Illustration by Eyugho<\/span><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

By the time Ferris had chosen a new violin, Seamus had fully recovered. He was resilient, if anything.<\/p>\n

Demos had gone quiet at the sight of the mark across Ferris\u2019 throat, and had remained quiet through the entire retelling of that night. But whatever revenge the Ghost had planned, it would have to wait. Rudy was in juvenile hall. His accomplices had been slapped with community service and all three of them had been expelled from St. Basil\u2019s. Though Seamus had started the fight, it had only taken one phone call for his charges to be dropped. Resilient and<\/i> lucky.<\/p>\n

With April came spring break, and with spring break came the desperate scramble to get out of the city, which was how Ferris found himself leaning against the window of Gino\u2019s Quattroporte, looking out at the expressway as the radio played Ennio Morricone.<\/p>\n

Their destination was the Giorgettis\u2019 summer home in Long Island. Victor and Gino were up front. Talking casually with Demos wasn\u2019t as easy with two adults present and they had both settled on staring at the scenery with mild interest. Demos was next to Ferris, bored out of his mind. Ferris was equally bored, pining for the novel in his backpack. Chronic motion sickness, however, ensured he would be unable to read during the long trip.<\/p>\n

At the opposite window sat Victor\u2019s daughter, Emily. Ferris had seen her plenty of times over the years. Though she and Demos acted like siblings, the boys stayed out of her way. She was two years younger, after all\u2014practically a child. This year, however, she had started high school. There was something different about her now. Her brown hair was short and boyish in a way Ferris wasn\u2019t sure was intentional or not. She was looking out the window, her attention taken by a pair of black headphones and the Walkman in her lap.<\/p>\n

Somewhere along the expressway, Ferris must\u2019ve fallen asleep, because he woke from a mundane dream as Victor pulled into a gas station. He removed his glasses, rubbing a palm over his eye.<\/p>\n

Demos was already tugging a cigarette from a pack. \u201cPit stop.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo<\/i>,\u201d Victor said from the front seat.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? But you said\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI<\/i> need a smoke. Not you,\u201d Victor said. \u201cIf your aunt sees you smoking, she\u2019ll kill me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat if I go around back and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI said \u2018no<\/i>.\u2019 Here,\u201d he said, plucking some bills from a gold clip. \u201cGo buy yourself some candy or something.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not five.\u201d Demos had gone into a full pout, crossing his skinny arms across his chest. This wasn\u2019t helping his case.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll take it,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cI need a drink.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emily leaned in. \u201cMe too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI hate you guys,\u201d Demos said. He passed the money over and clambered over Ferris to exit the car. Ferris watched him walk around the edge of the building, disobeying his uncle in plain sight.<\/p>\n

Ferris handed Emily the folded bills and followed.<\/p>\n

As expected, Demos was just around the corner of the convenience store, cupping a hand to light a cigarette. Ferris leaned against the wall at his side.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is so stupid,\u201d Demos said. \u201cThey let me shoot a fucking handgun, but I can\u2019t even smoke with them.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris looked up at the sun over the trees. It was low in the western sky. \u201cI think it\u2019s more a fear of your aunt than anything else.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess.\u201d Demos exhaled a plume. His pride was clearly shot. \u201cAt least you\u2019re here. You know\u2014it\u2019s weird.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s weird?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re the first person outside of the family that\u2019s come to this house with us.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris looked over. \u201cSeriously?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou see Nicky or Sal?\u201d Demos said.<\/p>\n

\u201cCouldn\u2019t you have brought Seamus?\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos shook his head. \u201cThey didn\u2019t ask me to invite a friend\u2014they asked me to invite you<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos glanced over. There was something vulnerable about that look, the slight pull of his brow, the soft edge of his eyes. \u201cI think they really trust you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris felt a bizarre heat in his throat, spreading across his features all the way to his ears. He cleared his throat. \u201cWhat\u2019s so special about this house, anyway?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s our safe house\u2014somewhere to wait if there\u2019s trouble,\u201d Demos said. \u201cAnd no one knows where it is. Just family.\u201d He took a drag. \u201cAnd you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris winced. \u201cI\u2019m about to be murdered, aren\u2019t I?\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos\u2019 laugh was soft. \u201cNo. But there\u2019s one more thing\u2014Nonno keeps a lockbox there. Blakely\u2019s tape, the original\u2014everyone else\u2019s dirt. It\u2019s all in there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t tell anyone,\u201d Demos said. \u201cSwear to me, Ferris.\u201d There was trust in his eyes, in that tight gaze beneath the darkening sky. In that moment Ferris felt he would do whatever it took for his friend\u2014keep any secret, carry any lie. He was weak under that gaze, yet somehow felt the strength to take on anyone. Anything.<\/p>\n

\u201cI swear,\u201d Ferris said.<\/p>\n

The moment was swept away by a voice around the corner. \u201cHey guys,\u201d Emily said. \u201cWe\u2019re going.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay.\u201d Demos flicked his cigarette, letting it bounce sparks off the sun-bleached wall.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere, I got you a drink,\u201d Emily said, handing Ferris a cold can as they walked. He looked down at it, then back at her. She\u2019d remembered.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emily smiled as they got back into the car. \u201cWasn\u2019t my money.\u201d<\/p>\n

#<\/p>\n

It was evening by the time the cars pulled up in front of the oceanside house. It was larger than Ferris had expected. The gated colonial home held at least eight bedrooms, its exterior set with gray cedar shingles and white trim. The foundation had been raised above sea level, with a long set of stairs leading to a glass-paned door.<\/p>\n

Past short walls of beachgrass, Ferris could see the ocean\u2014a great, dark expanse beneath the night sky. As far as hideouts went, it wasn\u2019t bad.<\/p>\n

“This everyone?” Ferris asked as the second car pulled up along the crushed-stone driveway. Sergio was driving.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Demos said. \u201cMy uncle Roberto\u2019s family flew in today. They should be here by dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris didn’t even want to think about what a disaster it would be if his entire family had an annual get-together. Every Levinstein wedding, anniversary, and Bar or Bat Mitzvah was an ordeal. Yet somehow, the Giorgettis did this every year.<\/p>\n

“We’re sharing a room,” Demos said. “Come on, it’s upstairs.”<\/p>\n

The bedroom had two full beds and a view of the water. Ferris had barely set down his suitcase before Demos dragged him back outside so he could smoke again. They went around back on the sand, out of his watchful aunt’s view. The wind came in over the water, waves rushing beneath the rising moon. Ferris caught himself staring.<\/p>\n

There was something about the sea.<\/p>\n

Demos’ cigarette was almost out when Emily’s voice came up from behind them. \u201cGrandpa\u2019s starting dinner,\u201d she said. \u201cHe wants you to make some bruschetta.\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos groaned. \u201cIt\u2019s Bru-SKE-t<\/i>a. God, you\u2019re so American<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI was born here, asshole. Go help him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFine. Don\u2019t bore Ferris to tears with girl talk.\u201d Demos tossed his cigarette stub into a bucket on the deck, then headed up the wooden stairs into the house.<\/p>\n

Emily gave Ferris a look. \u201cHe\u2019s<\/i> the one who never shuts up about fashion and J-rock.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris laughed\u2014it was painfully true. He then realized he was standing alone on the beach with Emily. He couldn\u2019t remember the last time the two had had a one-on-one conversation, if ever.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo\u2014\u201d Ferris stuffed his hands into his pockets. \u201cDid you cut your hair?\u201d<\/p>\n

Yes, an excellent conversation starter. Thought-provoking.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d she said, running a hand over the back of her head.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt looks good.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emily looked over. \u201cYou think so? I\u2019m kind of afraid to have super short hair.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know, I guess it\u2019s from when I was little. I was the ugliest baby. Everyone thought I was a boy, so Mom had to put a bow in my hair. Then they just asked why her son had a bow on.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris, unable to help it, started laughing.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, shut up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI-I\u2019m sorry.\u201d Ferris was still holding back the tail end of his laugh. \u201cI guess I don\u2019t remember much of you from back then.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t even remember when we first met, do you?\u201d Emily asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cUh\u2014\u201d This was a fair accusation. Ferris couldn\u2019t remember in the slightest. \u201cI\u2014? When was that?\u201d<\/p>\n

Emily smiled. \u201cYou made me cry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d Ferris cringed. \u201cI did?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I was five and you were seven. Dad had your family over for dinner. They let us play in the study while the adults talked, but you ignored me the entire time. You just kept reading some book.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh,\u201d Ferris said. That absolutely sounded like something that seven-year-old Ferris would have done. He rubbed the back of his neck.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen I kept trying to get your attention, you called me annoying and told me to go away.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris managed a light laugh. \u201cCan I apologize ten years late?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s okay,\u201d Emily said. \u201cIt\u2019s kind of funny if you think about it. I mean, you turned out to be pretty nice.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2014what?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, to me.\u201d Emily looked back out over the ocean. The wind picked up strands of her hair. It was cut at an angle, shorter in the back. It looked good disheveled.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe.\u201d Ferris rubbed his chin. \u201cIt could just be an act.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll let it slide if you help with my homework next semester.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, right,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cWhat do you suck at? Math?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow did you guess?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re a Giorgetti.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd an artist,\u201d she said. \u201cWell, I\u2019m trying to be. I want to go to art school. If I were a boy Dad would lose his shit, but he probably thinks I\u2019ll just marry some rich guy and be a happy painting housewife.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s stupid,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cBut\u2014as long as he supports you, I guess?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. He\u2019s my biggest patron\u2014he hangs my paintings up all over the house like they\u2019re Rembrandts.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, that\u2019s saying something. He\u2019s picky about art.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI made one of them when I was six.\u201d Emily made a dismissive hand gesture. \u201cIt\u2019s a bunch of baby ducks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn the hall upstairs? Instant classic.\u201d<\/p>\n

She snickered, then stopped herself. \u201cI heard your dad say you want to go to Yale.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I\u2019m applying to a bunch of schools, but\u2014yeah. I\u2019d like to,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cThat\u2019s where he went.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI hope you get in,\u201d she said. \u201cIt\u2019ll be weird not having you around the house all the time, though. You and Demos might as well be one person.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris felt a heat rush to his face. Was it that bad? He hadn\u2019t thought much about it before, but she was right. He wasn\u2019t applying to any universities in Southport. This would probably be his last year with Demos before school.<\/p>\n

He closed his eyes, just for a moment. He wouldn\u2019t think about that\u2014not right now.<\/p>\n

Eventually, Ferris glanced back at the house. \u201cI wonder what they\u2019re cooking.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cProbably a dozen different things. It\u2019s a wonder I\u2019m not some kind of land manatee.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCow.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emily peered at him. \u201cDid you just call me a cow?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo! I mean\u2014a manatee is a sea cow, so a land manatee would be a land\u2014a cow. I\u2014\u201d Ferris ran a hand over his forehead. \u201cUh, never mind.\u201d<\/p>\n

To his surprise, Emily started laughing. It was a nice laugh\u2014strong, and bright.\u00a0 <\/span>\u201cYou know\u2014we should hang out sometime,\u201d she said. \u201cThis was nice.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSure,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cI\u2019d like that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey!\u201d came a voice from the stairs. It was Demos. \u201cAntipasto is ready. Get your asses in here.\u201d<\/p>\n

#<\/p>\n

Dinner had knocked Ferris flat\u2014seven courses followed by espresso and limoncello. He had spent an hour becoming one with a chair, wishing in a carbohydrate-induced stupor that Gino and Demos weren\u2019t so damn good at cooking. One course, the secondo, had been Ferris\u2019 alone. While the family ate porchetta, a fatty pork belly roast with wild fennel, Demos had prepared a plate of mustard-crusted trout for Ferris. An extra half hour of labor for a single serving, and Ferris could taste every second of it.<\/p>\n

There had been new faces at the table. Demos\u2019 cousins from Vicenza\u2014a tall, affable man and small, scowling woman\u2014their father, Roberto\u2014Gino\u2019s first son. It had been a sensory overload of flavors and aromas, animated hands and laughter that had probably reached the closest town.<\/p>\n

Four hours later, the entire household was asleep. Demos and Ferris were seated on the same bed, reading under the light of a single lamp. \u201cThis summer home,\u201d Ferris said, \u201cis nicer than most regular homes.\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos flipped a page in his issue of Vogue Italia<\/i>. \u201cWell, this line of work has its perks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, not just money, either.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, I don\u2019t know,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cMaybe how when we both had sophomore English, I did ten hours of homework a week and you didn\u2019t do any. Yet, somehow, we both got A\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d Demos lowered his magazine. \u201cThat didn\u2019t really have anything to do with\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

He swallowed whatever the rest of that sentence was supposed to be.<\/p>\n

Ferris narrowed his eyes. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDemos.\u201d Ferris closed the book in his lap. \u201cHow the hell did you get an A?\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos broke eye contact, shifting his attention to the floor. \u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d His voice was low\u2014hesitant.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cI thought we were past keeping secrets.\u201d<\/p>\n

The moment dragged on and neither of them spoke. Ferris could see his friend thinking, his eyes still locked on the wooden floorboards. Ferris knew that expression\u2014he\u2019d know it for years. There was fear on Demos\u2019 face.<\/p>\n

Finally, Demos spoke. \u201cI kind of\u2014I flirted with the teacher.\u201d<\/p>\n

Oh.<\/p>\n

Ferris was about to return to his book when another memory hit him.<\/p>\n

Their sophomore English teacher had been a man.<\/p>\n

Ferris didn\u2019t know what to say, or if it would be right to mention it. Another silence fell between them, this one heavier. Suffocating.<\/p>\n

Demos cleared his throat. \u201cI\u2019ve been meaning to tell you,\u201d he said. Each word was fragile\u2014ready to break. \u201cI\u2014I don\u2019t like to keep things from you. Because we\u2019re friends.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did you want to tell me?\u201d Ferris asked. He wasn\u2019t stupid; it was pretty clear what Demos was trying to get across. He could only hope his friend would have the courage to say it.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think\u2014I think that sometimes, I don\u2019t know. I guess I\u2019m\u2014\u201d Demos stalled before continuing. \u201cI\u2019m attracted to guys.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris set his book on the nightstand. He had wondered when this would come up. It wasn\u2019t his place to start this conversation\u2014he had left it to Demos. And Demos had chosen this moment.<\/p>\n

Demos swallowed, then looked back over. \u201cDoes it bother you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cOf course not. I\u2019m glad you told me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh.\u201d Demos let out a breath, one he\u2019d seemed to have been holding in for a while. \u201cI was worried you\u2019d be, I don\u2019t know, grossed out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat am I, five?\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos made a quick laugh that was much too forced. He coughed. \u201cDon\u2019t worry,\u201d he said. His face had reddened. \u201cI\u2019m not going to jump you or anything.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris leaned forward onto his knees. \u201cYeah. I\u2019m not really your type.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh? And what exactly is my type?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cUh, handsome, patient\u2014\u201d Ferris was counting off on his fingers. \u201cAnd I guess\u2014old?\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos scoffed. \u201cMr. Bell wasn\u2019t my type<\/i>. I did it for the grade.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou didn\u2019t, uh\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo<\/i>. It was just flirting. I didn\u2019t\u2014\u201d Demos shook his head. \u201cNo<\/i>. Just\u2014don\u2019t tell anyone, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat, about the teacher, or\u2014?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAny of it. Uncle Vic would fucking kill me. This is not\u2014\u201d Demos\u2019 features had hardened. \u201cIn this kind of work\u2014this is not okay<\/i>. It\u2019s never been okay.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d was the first thing Ferris could think to say. Now, Demos had come out to him\u2014twice. This shouldn\u2019t have been the one that took this long. This shouldn\u2019t have been seen as worse. \u201cI won\u2019t tell,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cI promise.\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos watched him for a while. The tension seemed to have left his gaze\u2014some of it, at least. He looked back to his magazine. \u201cThanks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey.\u201d Ferris waited until their eyes met, until he was certain he had his friend\u2019s full attention. \u201cI care about you,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cThat will never change.\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos stared back for a moment. He seemed to be fighting something. He took a breath, then caved. Ferris could feel those skinny arms wrapping over his back, that small frame tucked against his as he was pulled into the tightest hug he could ever remember participating in.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d Demos said into his shoulder, muffled. \u201cMe too.\u201d<\/p>\n

#<\/p>\n

It had taken a while for Demos to fall asleep. Ferris hadn\u2019t succeeded at all. He was afraid to look at the clock and see just how late he\u2019d stayed up. They were supposed to be up early tomorrow and cruise on one of Gino\u2019s yachts. But this was a different place, a different bed. There was too much to think about.<\/p>\n

It was no use.<\/p>\n

Ferris tugged his glasses on, then slipped out into the hall. Once downstairs, the door to the deck caught his eye. Maybe some fresh air would help clear his head.<\/p>\n

The moment the glass door opened, Ferris heard low voices. His first instinct was to backpedal into the house, but it was too late\u2014he\u2019d been spotted.<\/p>\n

There were two of them. Ferris recognized the pair from dinner\u2014Gina and Benny. Gina was one of Demos\u2019 older cousins. It was striking, how similar she looked to Demos\u2014slender and pale with pitch black hair and a permanent air of apathy set into her features. Beniamino was her brother. In stark contrast to his sibling, he was large, brawny, and tanned. He had a head of dark, curly hair above a set of friendly blue eyes\u2014Gino\u2019s eyes.<\/p>\n

Ferris hadn\u2019t had much of a chance to speak to either of them earlier. They still felt like strangers. \u201cOh, sorry,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019ll just\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, ah, non andare!\u201d Benny said with a smile. \u201cIt is okay.\u201d His accent was thicker than any Giorgetti Ferris had ever heard.<\/p>\n

\u201cAh, all right,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cIf you don\u2019t mind.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gina seemed to mind. A hint of tension flashed across her features, but she merely tapped some of the ashes of her cigarette on the deck and glanced away.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you not sleeping?\u201d Benny asked after a moment of considering his English.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I can\u2019t sleep. Uh\u2014non riesco a dormire. Anche tu?\u201d Ferris said, mustering up the courage to use what he\u2019d learned in his last three years of Italian classes.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh! Parli Italiano? E\u2019 fantastico! We are having, eh, plane lag.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJet lag,\u201d Gina said.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cYou flew in from Italy today?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSi, arriving at JFK\u2014questa mattina?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis morning?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c\u00c8 cos\u00ec! Yes.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris smiled, despite himself. This man spoke very little English, and Ferris spoke even less Italian. It was too risky to reach beyond the world of \u2018things we both already know<\/i>,\u2019 but even so, he was enjoying their conversation. It was strange. Gina was so cold where her brother was so open\u2014but similar upbringings didn\u2019t necessarily mean similar personalities.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are Demos, ah\u2014migliore amico. He writes you in letters,\u201d Benny said, making the motion of writing on invisible paper.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe does?\u201d Ferris said. Migliore amico\u2014that translated to best friend<\/i>, right? His face felt warm. \u201cUh, yes. We spend a lot of time together.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow nice for you,\u201d Gina scoffed. The mention of Demos seemed to shift her mood from \u2018uninterested<\/i>\u2019 to \u2018irritated<\/i>.\u2019 So irritated, in fact, that she tossed her cigarette butt aside and gestured to her brother. \u201cSono stanca. Vado a dormire.\u201d<\/p>\n

Benny gave Ferris an apologetic look. \u201cMi dispiace,\u201d he said, turning to follow Gina back into the house. \u201cDormi bene!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGoodnight,\u201d Ferris said with a weak smile. He looked out over the water as the door clicked shut behind him. He wondered what all Demos had said about him. He trusted Ferris enough to bring him to their summer home, and he trusted him with his deepest secret. It was too bad, really, that Ferris didn\u2019t have much of anything to share in return. He would simply have to pay back the gesture by keeping his friend\u2019s secrets to himself.<\/p>\n

All of them.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Illustration by Eyugho By the time Ferris had chosen a new violin, Seamus had fully recovered. He was resilient, if anything. Demos had gone quiet at the sight of the mark across Ferris\u2019 throat, and had remained quiet through the entire retelling of that night. But whatever revenge the Ghost had planned, it would have […]<\/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":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-808","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fishbones-book-01"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4oWx8-d2","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/808","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=808"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/808\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":810,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/808\/revisions\/810"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=808"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=808"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=808"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}