Book 4: Close but Distant

Chloe

A faded commotion downstairs wakes me up, my mind taking a few seconds to adjust and understand where I am. It's been a few days since we moved to Vermont, but I still haven't gotten used to this place, or this bed, for that matter. 

The safehouse isn’t uncomfortable at all, nor inconvenient, but no matter how hard I try, nothing makes me feel the same way I feel at Tony's house back in Staten Island. Which should also be considered my house now too, if he hadn't sent me here.

I ponder going back to sleep, deciding whatever’s going on downstairs is probably irrelevant. My mother must be giving orders to Tony's soldiers for groceries or something like that. Since she can't go out by herself, she’d rather ask them to do the chores for her.

But when I hear a familiar, deep voice, I get to my feet immediately. What is Armando doing here? Tony sent several men to watch us, but his second shouldn’t be here, not when they’re likely facing