Chapter 2: Two Hundred Empty Coats  

AMELIA

I hid in the cloakroom among two hundred empty coats, where the air smelled of cigars and expensive rain.

It was the only room in the DeSanto mansion with no windows and no guards. Black wool hung in rows from floor to ceiling, heavy and still, and I pushed my way into the middle of them until I could no longer see the door. Then I sat on a stool, pressed my fingers against the little compass at my throat, and breathed.

Nobody ever wants to.

"Miss Amelia?" A young maid in a black apron pushed the door open and stopped, startled. "The Signora is looking for you."

"Which Signora?"

"Your mother. She looked upset." She dropped her voice. "I did not see you, Miss."

"Thank you, Rosa."

"I only came for a coat." She grabbed one and fled.

I froze. A pair of heels clicked on the marble outside.

"Amelia, I know you are in here. Rosa told me."

The coats parted. My mother stood among them in a long champagne dress, her chestnut hair pinned in a perfect twist, her hazel eyes tired. Her smile was gentle and polite. It was the smile she wore for the Don's guests.

"Mom."

"What are you doing in the coats?"

"It is quiet in here, Mom."

"It is a cloakroom." She pushed a sleeve out of the way. "You cannot hide among the Capos' overcoats. They will think you are a thief."

"They will think I am only a girl who wanted to sit down for a minute."

"Amelia."

"I am sorry."

"Do not apologize." She sighed. "You apologize for everything."

"I learned from the best."

"I know you did." Her face fell. "I brought you something."

"A gift?"

"It is your graduation day."

"You have never given me a gift."

"I gave you a hairband once."

"It was from the supermarket."

"It was still a hairband, Amelia." She reached into her beaded clutch and held out a small, flat box. "Open it."

Inside lay a cheap black mobile phone, still wrapped in clear plastic. The screen was dark.

"A phone?"

"A prepaid one." She tried to smile, small and nervous. "I put a little credit on it for you."

"I already have a phone."

"This one is private."

"Does anyone else know about it?"

"No. Only me."

"Not Vittorio?"

"Of course not."

"Not Aunt Lucinda?"

"No." Her answer was too quick. "Why would you ask that?"

"I do not know." I looked at the phone. "Why would I need a private phone?"

"Because a young woman should always have a way to call her mother." Her hands began to twist together. "Wherever she goes."

"Wherever I go."

"Amelia."

"You want me to leave the mansion."

"I did not say that."

"You gave me a secret phone."

"Please do not make it sound so cruel."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because people are talking."

"About what?"

"About you and Luca." Her voice dropped. "Mrs. Bellini asked me at lunch why he drives you to university. Why he sits with you at the family table. Why he looks at you the way he does."

"How does he look at me?"

"Like a man who has forgotten you are his sister."

"I am not his sister."

"That is exactly what people say."

"He is only being kind."

"Kindness is not what they call it."

"What do they call it?"

"A scandal." She said the word like a curse. "And Sofia's father is watching. If he thinks you are in the way, he will end the alliance."

"The alliance?"

"Between the Bellinis and the DeSantos. It is worth millions of euros." She wiped her cheek. "Vittorio has not said it, but he is worried. He told me this morning he wants no trouble tonight."

"Trouble from me?"

"Trouble from anyone." She looked away. "But you are the easiest to remove."

"Is that what Aunt Lucinda told you?"

My mother went very still. "Who said that?"

"She was waiting for me at the stairs. She said you tell her everything."

"She exaggerates."

"Does she?"

"Lucinda is only concerned." Her voice cracked. "She has been very kind to me."

"Kind."

"She helps me understand the family." She gripped my hands. Her fingers were ice. "She says if you stay, the Bellinis will leave. And if the Bellinis leave, it will be my fault."

"Because you brought me here."

"Because I brought you here." Her eyes filled. "I know what I promised Vittorio. I said you would be no trouble."

"I have been no trouble."

"I know." She pressed her lips together. "I know you have, my darling."

"Do you ever think about Dad?" I asked.

"Every day." Her mouth twisted. "And never."

"Do you think he is still alive?"

"I try not to." She took a breath. "Amelia, please."

"Then why does she have so much power over you?"

"She does not."

"Mom."

"She knows things." The words came out as a whisper. "Old things. About before. About how I got away from your father."

"What things?"

"Please do not ask me." Tears slid down her cheeks. "Please. Just let me do this the quiet way."

My chest tightened, quiet and sharp, like a plate cracking on a shelf.

"Does Luca know?" I asked.

"No. And he must not."

"He will ask."

"Then tell him you have decided." She squeezed my hands. "He will respect that."

"Can I at least say goodbye to him?"

"No."

"Not even a note?"

"A note would be cruel." Her grip tightened. "A clean break is much kinder."

"Kinder to who?"

"To everyone, darling."

I looked at the black coats. At the little plastic box in my lap. At the shadow of her hands on mine.

"Okay," I said very quietly.

"Okay?"

"I will go, Mom, I really promise."

"You are not going to argue?"

"What would I even argue about, Mom?"

She stared at me. Then her shoulders dropped, and a long breath left her. It was a sigh of relief, and I heard every part of it.

"Thank you, my darling girl," she whispered softly. "You are such a good, easy girl."

"I am an easy girl to send away."

"Do not say that."

"Will you visit me?"

"When things settle."

"When will that be?"

"Soon."

"Will you call me?"

"Every Sunday." She tried to smile. "On the phone I gave you."

"Every Sunday."

"I promise."

"Mom."

"What are you afraid of?" I asked.

"Everything." She laughed, thin and shaky. "Mostly that I will wake up in that old kitchen with your father."

"You will not."

"You do not know that." She stood and smoothed her dress, trembling slightly. "Wear the necklace tonight. Luca will expect it. But stay near the back of the ballroom. And smile. Nobody must see you upset."

"I know that, Mom."

"You look very tired," she said. "Sleep when you can."

"I will try, Mom."

She kissed my forehead, fast, as if it might burn her. Then she parted the coats and walked out without looking back.

I sat very still among the dark wool. Then I pressed the little box against my chest and cried without a sound. I had practiced that for years. Mostly I cried because tonight was the last night I would ever see Luca.

"Do not cry," I whispered to myself. "You will ruin your face."

After a while, I wiped my cheeks and tore the plastic off the phone. It was cheap and light. The screen lit up with a faint blue glow, and a single line of text.

Contacts: 2.

I opened the list. The first name was Mom.

The second was a single letter. L.

"No," I whispered. "No, no."

My heart stopped. I opened the call log. Nothing had ever been dialed on that phone except one number. One call, made at 8:42 that morning. It had lasted eleven minutes.

I only knew one L in that house.

And my mother had called her from the phone she was giving me.

"Mom," I whispered into the dark wool. "Whose side are you on?"

Nobody answered.