Chapter 11

Scipio took a deep breath as he awoke from his slumber. A sweet woman's voice was talking to him through a speaker above him; something about planes landing in half an hour. He groaned and stretched. His back felt stiff and his legs felt cramped. When his feet pushed into something solid, he opened his eyes and looked around. He was sitting in a comfortable seat… on what appeared to be an airplane. The chairs were peach in color. The walls were off-white. There was a tv in front of him, but it was muted. He looked out his window and saw only ocean stretching as far as the eye could see.

Scipio pulled a letter out of his carry-on bag. The front read 'So I thought I'd get you some hunky man for your birthday' with a really hot male model pictured. The inside said 'Sadly, all I could afford was this card. Happy Birthday!' and a smiley face. Under that, written in pen was 'Happy 19th birthday, Scipio! Have a safe flight! Don't forget to write!' and it was signed by a girl named Emily and her boyfriend Max.

Without Emily, Scipio didn't think he could've made it through living on his own. With her and Max, Scipio had found ways to deal with his mother's death and to live properly. They helped him learn how to pay bills by asking their own parents. They took him out every once in a while to make sure he didn't lose touch with reality and society. It hadn't taken long for Emily to discover Scipio wasn't interested in women and he easily told her he had someone waiting for him in Italy. Max thought Scipio was cool, plain and simple. Emily thought he was cool and absolutely adored his accent. They were an awesome support group to draw energy from when he felt down… but nothing would ever compare to the way Prosper made him feel or the way Prosper could cheer him up.

In fact, every year he'd been away, Scipio had Oreos and milk on the day he'd had them with Prosper as though he were celebrating an anniversary. Three anniversaries later, here he was on a plane. Soon he would land and make his way to his old home.

Soon he could see land outside his window. Then the plane began to descend. When the plane finally landed, Scipio couldn't wait to get off. One thing he hated was the speed of airports; aka, slow. Through all the waiting and all the way to his house, Scipio began to smile and could not stop. He was home! Soon he would see all his siblings, and he would see Prosper! Suddenly, he had a thought as to why he never got any letters from them. Knowing his father, the letters had been intercepted and never mailed. Well that was alright. Scipio would tell them all about America now that he was back.

He was let into the house by a maid who nearly fainted when she saw him. He smiled a warm greeting at her and pulled his bags inside. Now Scipio could've let himself in, but he didn't have any hands to get to his key and he may have accidentally, on purpose thrown his key into the Atlantic Ocean at some point.

"Are my brothers and sister here?" Scipio asked as the maid helped him set everything down in the entryway.

"Of course. Shall I fetch them for you?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you," Scipio replied, setting down his last bag, his shoulder carry-on.

It didn't take long to get the orphans down. They'd heard the door opening and were curiously poking their heads around the corner anyway. Scipio expected them to rush to him and envelope him in hugs. Instead, he got Riccio running to him and punching him in the chest. The others rushed down the stairs but kept their distance. Each face held a different level of contempt or betrayal.

"Ow, Riccio! What on Earth was that for?" Scipio barked, rubbing his chest.

"That was for being a jerk! How dare you come back here after what you've done!" Riccio exclaimed, going to hit Scipio again but was held back by Hornet at the last minute.

"What are you talking about? I haven't done anything," Scipio replied, confused beyond compare. Why were they all looking at him like he'd killed a kitten right before their eyes?

"Exactly," Bo's younger voice spoke up. He was only 13, but his voice had already begun to change out of his sweet child's voice. "You didn't do anything to help Prosper… even though we mailed you letters all the time."

"Help Prosper?"Scipio asked, voice slightly airy.

"That's right! But you don't really care, do you? You're all grown up and don't have to worry about us at all, right?!" Riccio accused, struggling to get free from Mosca and Hornet. Scipio grabbed the boy so firmly by the shoulders, so suddenly, that Riccio stopped moving entirely. The oldest Massimo child gave Riccio a stare that could kill if he put a little more anger into it.

"Riccio, what happened to Prosper?" Scipio asked, voice heavy and serious. It sounded more like his father this way, but he wanted an answer. What had he not known? Why did he need to help Prosper?

The orphans were silent though. No one answered his question. They just watched him with startled eyes. Then Hornet's fingers slid down Riccio's arms and she gasped softly.

"You never got our letters, did you?" she asked quietly. Scipio shook his head and moved his gaze to her. "Not even one?" Scipio shook his head again.

"What happened to Prosper?" he asked again. Bo stepped forward and put a hand on Scipio's arm in a similar fashion to how Prosper might have if he was here.

"Your father sent him back to the orphanage… right after you left for the airport," the young blonde revealed. "According to the only letter we ever got from him… it was to save us from being sent back as well. He didn't say much about it though. But he wanted us to know he still loved us."

Scipio's blood felt cold. His body felt like stone. Prosper had been sent back to the orphanage... three years ago?! Scipio's eyes narrowed, and though he was looking in their direction the children knew he wasn't glaring at them.

"Don't follow me," he ordered coldly. Then he released Riccio and walked away toward the East wing of the house. He strode like he was floating, and though his body said he was calm, they all knew he was upset.

Despite his order, they all followed him. Scipio opened his father's study and quietly closed the door behind him. Signore Massimo looked up from his work to inquire who had decided to disturb him. He only looked mildly shocked to see his son there.

"Ah. Has it already been three years?" he asked in a bored tone, looking back at his papers.

"You sent Prosper back to the orphanage," Scipio accused in eerily calm voice.

"Yes. The boy wanted to go, so I let him," his father explained. Scipio's eyes narrowed at his father.

"You threatened him," he corrected. "You threatened him, and you threatened me. Father-"

"Hm?" Signore Massimo turned to his son. That's when he first seemed surprised. Scipio was standing tall and dark in the doorway, a serious look on his face. All signs of childishness were gone from his features as it was. That had been the masked goal of sending him to America, but the effect standing before him nearly scared him.

"I'm leaving this house, and I'm taking the others with me. I'm also taking all of mom's stuff. Then I'm going to go find Prosper. When I leave this house with all my things, I will not come back… not ever," Scipio promised in an almost threatening way. "I will not forgive you."

Scipio turned to the door, but as soon as his hand hit the doorknob, his father stood up from his desk. The study was bright, but it seemed dark to them.

"Who do you think you are? You can't touch your mother's belongings. They stay here," his father growled gently. Scipio cast a hateful stare over his shoulder.

"Mom is dead. Has been for two years," Scipio said. He pulled a paper from his pocket and tossed it toward his father. "Check it. Her will says all of it belongs to me. Goodbye."

Then he left, his father holding the will like a feather. Scipio hoped he'd been right when he thought he saw guilt on his father's face. Then Scipio stepped into the hall and strode quickly down it, back toward his things. The orphans were scrambling around a corner when he got to the end of the hall. Scipio couldn't help it. Despite his fear of not being able to find Prosper anymore, he smiled.

"I thought I told you guys to stay in the entrance hall," he teased. Several nervous laughs met him. "It's alright. Go pack your things. We're leaving."

Most of them beamed up at him and quickly hurried toward the stairs, but Bo didn't move. Hornet stopped at the bottom of the stairs, Riccio and Mosca stopping a few steps up to look back at her. Hornet smiled broadly and waved at Bo.

"Come on!" she exclaimed. Bo looked worriedly at Scipio.

"What about Prop?" he asked. Scipio smiled and ruffled his hair.

"We're going to find him," he promised. Bo beamed at him and hurried over to Hornet. With one last smile at Scipio, he ran up the stairs with the others to pack. Scipio smiled too. As soon as they all disappeared around the corner, Scipio frowned. He walked to the front door and opened it. Just outside it, he remembered where Prosper had been standing the day he left. Prosper probably had known of his fate by then…. Why hadn't he said anything?

Scipio frowned deeper. He'd thought it, hadn't he? He'd known Prosper was trying to tell him something with his eyes… but he hadn't asked. Then Scipio looked out at the drive. That was it. He was going to find Prosper and bring him home.