Violet chose that moment to point at the wheelchair and say some unrecognizable word that was her version of asking what she was looking at. It was enough to get Gio's attention as he rolled by us. The mix of anger and despair in his gaze was all too familiar. I wanted to say something to Gio but found myself tongue-tied. After all, what could I say?
I get it?
So many of us had all suffered the same fate, but being abducted and violated was never the same experience. I could understand some of the things that Gio had been through, but I would never truly get all of it. So it wasn't right for me to say anything at all, to presume that just because I'd been through similar things that telling him so would somehow make him feel better.
"Gio," I heard the nurse say softly to the young man from behind him.
"Nick!" he snapped. "My name is Nick! I don't belong here. That man is not my father! You can't keep me here!"
Surprise went through me when I heard Gio call himself by another name. Maybe I had misunderstood something? It would certainly explain the boy’s anger if he weren't actually Luca's son but was being treated like he was. And if he was being held here against his will because they thought he was someone else…
The young man, Gio or Nick or whatever his name was, shot a glance in Violet's and my direction when Violet let out a little cry. His raised voice and demeanor had clearly upset her. Tears began streaming down the toddler's face as she clung to me. I did my best to comfort her by stroking her back and whispering in her ear that everything was okay. The squeaking of the chair caught my attention as the teenager rolled by. I saw what looked like regret in his gaze as he looked at Violet.
"Sorry," he murmured. I realized he was apologizing for having frightened the child.
"She's okay," I reassured him. Violet chose that moment to turn her head so she could look at the young man. She kept her cheek tucked against my neck.
The teen sent her a small smile and then softly repeated his apology. Violet didn't respond verbally, but she did hold up her little keychain as if to show it off to the young man. I was about to make a comment about all being forgiven when I saw that the kid’s eyes were homed in on the keychain. He looked like he had seen a ghost because his pale skin went even whiter. He stopped rolling his wheelchair so suddenly that the nurse behind him almost ran into him.
I felt my heart skip a beat as I realized why he was looking at it the way he was.
He remembers it.
I glanced down at the little soccer ball and saw Gio's name on it. I knew in that instant that no matter what he believed, the young man was Luca's son. There was just no other explanation for the way he was staring at the keychain.
Longingly.
But also with stark, absolute fear.
I opened my mouth to ask him about the keychain, but he yanked his eyes away.
"Take me back to my room," he demanded of the nurse. He jerked his head away and didn't spare me, Violet, or the keychain another glance.
"We should get back," Stan reminded me softly. I'd forgotten all about the man's presence. I was tempted to ask him what was going on but realized it wouldn't be fair to expect him to tell me about his employer’s situation, even if he did happen to know it. But there was one person who could tell me, who would tell me.
So as we made our way back to the waiting room, I once again asked Stan for his phone and he gave it to me without hesitation. Aleks picked up on the third ring.
"It's me," I said softly.
Aleks let out a little breath of air and then gently asked, "Are you okay?"
I really wasn't.
I was confused as hell.
About everything.
But I sidestepped the question and simply asked what I needed to know most at the moment. "Tell me about Gio."
Chapter Fourteen
Luca
I sensed him before I saw him but kept my head down as I tried to focus on the words in front of me. But none of the letters made sense to me even though I’d been looking at them for hours now. It wasn't because the subject matter of the contract was complicated. In fact, I’d gone through contracts like this a hundred times over and never had an issue, even when things had been at their worst while I’d been looking for my son. But it might as well have been written in a foreign language because I couldn't make sense of anything that I was reading. And since I hadn't turned the page, I supposed I wasn't technically even reading.