Chapter 4

Damian hesitated, then finally nodded.

"Daddy will be there."

Ella's whole face lit up, and she pulled me out to buy craft supplies right away.

When I went to pay, she pulled out her own little coin tin instead. She had earned every coin by collecting bottles one at a time. She had saved for an entire year to buy three aquarium tickets, yet now she spent it all without hesitation.

That night Ella worked for three hours and finished a little seaside house that lit up.

Under the clear roof stood three small paper figures holding hands. She drew a black hawk at the father figure's feet, because that was the design on her daddy's ring.

She ruined several sheets of colored paper and rubbed her fingers red on the scissors, and she still would not let me take over. She said Daddy would only like a present she made herself.

"Mommy, when Daddy sees it tomorrow he'll love it, right?"

I tucked her in. "He will."

The next afternoon, we arrived early at the kindergarten auditorium and waited.

Family after family arrived, and the hope on Ella's face slowly turned into panic.

Each time the auditorium door opened, she turned around at once. When she saw it was not Damian, she tried to pretend nothing had happened.

In half an hour I called Damian thirty-seven times.

Not one went through.

The teacher was already urging the children to set their projects on the display table, but Ella held on to her little house and insisted on waiting until her daddy came.

Looking at my daughter's fingers gone white from gripping, I left her with the teacher and rushed to the Moretti building.

The press called it the headquarters of Moretti Shipping. The underworld called it the Hawk's Nest. Armored cars filled the drive, and every man in the lobby was carrying a gun.

I gave Damian's name, and the receptionist said coldly, "Without an appointment, the Don will not see you."

"I'm his wife."

She looked like she had just heard a joke.

While they verified my identity, I slipped into the staff elevator behind a catering cart. It was not until I reached the thirty-third floor that I heard a birthday song coming from the end of the hall.

The heavy door was not fully shut.

Damian and Cecilia stood around Leon, celebrating his birthday. An enormous black hawk crest hung on the wall, and the Family's officers raised their glasses to Damian.

The man who quibbled over every cent of the electric bill at home now sat at the head of the table, while everyone respectfully addressed him as the Don.

Leon wore a little crown and reached for the chocolate on the table. Damian laughed, unwrapped it, and personally fed it to him.

Cecilia leaned on his shoulder. They were easy with each other, like a real family of three.

I had barely reached for the door when two bodyguards grabbed my arms, twisted them behind my back, and dragged me toward the elevator.

"Let go of me, I'm Damian's wife!"

One of them scoffed. "The Donna is right in there. Who do you think you are?"

The elevator doors closed in front of me and crushed the last of what I had been hoping for.

By the time I got back to the school, the contest was over.

Ella stood alone in a corner, the sole of one old snow boot split open, while a few children laughed at her.

"Liar, your dad doesn't even like you!"

The teacher tried to pull the children away, but Ella clutched the little house, its lights dead now, and would not lift her head.

I ran over and put my arms around her. She did not cry. She only took the paper figure that stood for her father out of the house and slowly tore it in two.

The light strip had been trampled and broken, and a crack ran across the clear roof. With her head bowed, she carefully reset the two figures that stood for her and me.

"Mommy, the two of us are still a family."

In that moment I knew she had finally saved up enough disappointment.

I withdrew her entry from the contest, sent the divorce papers to Damian, took out every cent of our savings, and bought two train tickets out of New York.

We did not take much. In the home where we had lived for seven years, all we truly owned were two old suitcases.

As the train pulled out, Damian finally called.

I turned the phone off.

Ella pressed against the window, watching the lights of New York fall further and further behind, and then took my hand.

"Mommy, we don't want Daddy anymore."