Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"He said I should sleep," I answer.

Luca's eyes stay on mine. He is standing in the doorway in his shirtsleeves, the cuffs undone, hair a little rumpled from a couch he clearly never lay down on.

[Truthfulness of Host's statement: 85%.]

Fifteen percent. Salvatore did say that. It is the rest I am leaving out.

"And?" Luca asks.

"And that he was sorry to meet me at this hour." I make my voice small and tired, which is not hard. "He said it was a long time since he had seen anyone new in this house."

Luca watches me for a while. Then his shoulders drop a fraction, as if he has decided to let this one go. It is not trust. It is a man picking which fight to have before sunrise.

"He should not be out of the vault," he says. "I will speak to the guards."

"Don't."

His brow lifts.

"If you shout at the guards, they'll know he walks." I keep my voice level. "They'll know he can. You said nobody knows he's breathing. How many people know he walks?"

The silence that follows is the kind I used to dread. This time it feels like the start of something, because Luca is thinking about it. He is thinking about what I said, not about who said it.

"Two," he says at last. "The guards at the vault door. And now you."

"Then keep it at two."

He studies me. "That is good advice."

"I've been told I'm getting more careful."

The corner of his mouth moves. He turns away before it becomes anything. "Be ready at eight. The family eats together on the first morning after a wedding. It is a tradition."

"Do I wear the dress?"

"God, no." He says it so fast it startles us both. "Wear something that does not look like a surrender."

He goes. I sit there with my heart going and a tiny, stupid warmth in my chest that I immediately put out.

[Target affection: +2.]

[Notice: You are not supposed to enjoy that.]

I look at the empty air. "Are you teasing me?"

[Negative.]

Which is exactly what a teasing system would say.

At seven-fifty, I stand in front of the mirror in a dark green dress I found in a closet I did not know was mine. Someone filled it in advance. Every piece fits. The tag inside the collar says it was ordered four months ago, before the contract was even signed.

He chose me out of eleven. He had my measurements before I said yes.

I touch the zipper. My hands are steady. I decide that I am going to count.

Count the ones who do not blink.

The dining room is long and cold, with a table made for twenty and set for nine. Sunlight comes through tall windows and falls across white linen, silver, and a row of faces turning toward me as the door opens.

Luca is already at the head of the table. He does not rise, but his eyes find me and hold. Not a signal. Just acknowledgment, and I understand it is the most he can give in front of them.

"My wife," he says. "Elena."

Eight people. I take them in one at a time, the way you read a page.

Marco Vescari, Luca's uncle. Fifties, heavy, a cigar-gray beard, a smile that arrives before his eyes do. He stands, takes my hand in both of his, and kisses it. His palms are warm and damp.

"Welcome to the family, cara. We were all so curious."

[Skill 'Read Lies': "We were all so curious." Truthfulness: 90%.]

He blinks normally. Twice, in fact, in the three seconds I watch him.

Giulia Vescari, Luca's aunt, Marco's wife. Thin as a pencil, pearls at her throat, a gaze that moves like a hand through my pockets. She nods at me and says nothing. She does not blink once in the time it takes me to sit down.

I note it. I do not look at her again.

Dante, Luca's cousin. Late twenties, handsome in a sleepy, well-fed way. He grins at me over a coffee cup and lifts it in a mock toast.

Rosalind, Dante's fiancée, a quiet young woman who studies her plate and glances at Luca whenever she thinks nobody is looking. I mark that too.

Father Benedetto, the family priest, round and sweating, mumbling a blessing over bread.

Tomas Reyes, Luca's lawyer, polished and silent, with a briefcase at his feet.

Bruno, the driver who took Sophia home last night. He stands against the wall near the door, hands clasped, face blank. He blinks like a normal man.

And then the last chair, at the far end from Luca, which is empty.

"Whose place is that?" I ask.

Luca's hand pauses on his coffee cup.

"My father's," says Marco, a little too quickly. "God rest him. We keep it for tradition."

[Skill 'Read Lies': "God rest him." Truthfulness: 20%.]

Luca does not look at his uncle. He is looking at the empty chair with an expression I cannot read.

"Eat," he says to me. "Before it goes cold."

I eat. Breakfast is eggs, bread, thin ham, fruit, and an unspoken pressure that sits on all of us like a lid. Marco talks about the weather and the vineyard. Dante jokes. Giulia watches. Nobody mentions Sophia, and that silence is so complete it has its own shape.

Halfway through the meal, a message flashes at the corner of my vision.

[Notice: Someone at the table has a System.]

[Signal strength: Weak. Source: Unknown.]

[Suggestion: Identify the source.]

My fork stops an inch from my mouth.

"Is something wrong, cara?" Marco asks.

"No." I smile. "The ham is excellent."

I lift my eyes to the room and do what Salvatore told me. I count.

Marco blinks. Dante blinks. Rosalind blinks. The priest blinks too often. The lawyer blinks like a metronome. Bruno blinks.

Giulia does not.

I watch her for ten seconds, twenty. She sits with her hands folded on the linen and her eyes on the middle of the table, on nothing, and they do not close. They do not even flicker.

Then, slowly, Giulia turns her head and looks directly at me.

She smiles, thin and polite.

[WARNING.]

[Second System signature identified.]

[Source: Giulia Vescari.]

[Signal type: Hostile.]

The smile does not move. Her lips barely do either.

"Elena," she says. Her voice is soft and dry as paper. "You are not eating the fruit."

I look down. Next to my plate is a small bowl of sliced pomegranate, red seeds shining under the light. I did not touch it. I do not remember anyone setting it there.

[Alert: Food item flagged.]

[Substance detected: Slow-acting poison. Lethality: High.]

[Antidote available in Shop: 3,000 points.]

[Current balance: 3,150 points.]

My stomach drops through the floor.

"It's a family favorite," Giulia adds gently. "Everyone eats it on the first morning. It brings luck." She tilts her head. "It would be rude to refuse."

Every eye at the table has turned my way. Marco's smile has stopped. Dante's cup hangs in the air. Luca has gone absolutely still, the way he did on the stairs.

And the only person in the room who looks at me with something like kindness is the one person who should not. Bruno, by the door. His lips shape a single word so quietly I almost miss it.

Don't.

I lift the spoon.