Anna turned and looked at the cool sheets, but the space beside her was empty.

There was no Vincenzo. 

She was alone in the dark, still room.

A shaky breath slipped from her as she turned to stare at the ceiling. 

“Why the hell did I have that kind of dream about the Boss…?” Anna murmured. “And my grandmother… she was…”

She stopped, the rest of the words catching in her throat.

Just thinking of her grandmother, hearing her voice at the door in her dream, sent a sharp sting ...