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nothing. Rumors always surrounded the Travatis’ comings and goings. Justin’s comment had tipped his hand; he knew where Anthony had been, and he was attempting to figure out exactly what Anthony had planned for after the new year. Let Justin think what he wanted, vacation where he wanted, do what he wanted. Yes, let his three brothers, who were barely speaking to him because he’d had the audacity to demand proof that Max was a Travati, exile him from TF. Let them all band together and do what they wanted without him, because, very soon, Anthony intended to do what he wanted, without them.
     
    *
     
    Shelly ran her fingernails up her arms and walked to the closet. Her room was an untouched shrine to her adolescence, with high school pictures and honor certificates on the walls, soccer trophies on the bookshelves. Pictures of a girl in a cheerleading uniform who she barely recognized, surrounded by beaming friends, stared back at her. How could that time in high school feel both like forever ago and yet as though only ten minutes had passed? The room looked the same as it had the day after Vinnie’s funeral, when Shelly had scraped together all her money, packed a backpack, and left. Tonight, as she tried to figure out what to wear to dinner at Aubrey and Justin’s, felt much like the night she’d run from her family, stifling. The walls closed in on her, pressing the breath from her lungs. The air too thick with memories of the past.
    Deep breath. Deep breath.
    She yanked the black wool pants she’d brought with her from San Francisco off the hanger. They’d have to do for dinner tonight, because the dress was meant for Christmas Eve.
    Aubrey had sounded nice on the phone. Almost too nice. Shelly had never thought that Justin would settle down, he hadn’t been the type. Not like Anthony, who’d been serious and geared toward family since the day he was born.
    Family. Kids. Now Justin had both, and Anthony had none. Funny, right? The two people who everyone thought would get married, she and Anthony, had veered as far away from that future as possible. She’d been a drug addict and he’d become a cold hard-ass who, according to Nonna, barely spoke to his family. Wow, life was full of zigzags, uncontrollable ups and downs. What had made Anthony so angry, so hard, so cold, as though his heart was frozen in a block of ice?
    Shelly shivered. Maybe she knew. Maybe it was the same things she’d run from, the pain, the past. She’d tried to numb her feelings, but then, when Anthony had come to Texas to find her, to save her, to do what he’d promised Vinnie he’d do, he’d failed in his attempt. Maybe those few days in Texas with her, the addict version of her, had been enough to turn his heart cold.
    She’d gone on an eighteen-month bender after she ditched Anthony in McAllen. The memories were vague, and she didn’t really ever want to recover them. Shelly pulled on a blue sweater with silver threads woven through the front and turned to the mirror above her dresser.
    The face staring back at her still didn’t feel like her own. She closed her eyes. The urge, the desire to take these feelings away, clawed through her blood. She craved a fix. She wanted a fix so badly her skin hurt. Alex, her sponsor, had told her that the holidays could be a recipe for disaster. Damn, she needed a meeting. She grabbed her phone and tapped out a text to Alex.
     
    This is hard. Having tough time.
     
    A minute later came the response:
     
    Meeting at church 2 blocks away.
    Starts in 15. Get your ass there.
     
    Alex was right. Shelly had plenty of time before dinner, she wasn’t supposed to be to Justin and Aubrey’s house for a while, she needed to get her ass to a meeting. Shelly couldn’t get the type of fix she desperately wanted. She couldn’t ever return to that life. The stench of sweaty old men climbing across her body. Waking up in rooms she didn’t remember entering. No. Nothing was worth that life. How many men?