Chapter 11

Sera called from a number I didn't recognize.I was on the floor beside my bed, fitting the camera my father had given me with a new strap. My injured hand made the buckle difficult.“Don't hang up.”I laid the strap across my knee.“If this is about the fire, speak to Rinaldi.”“Your mother won't take my calls. Tell her you don't want her to cut me off.”I looked at the half-threaded buckle.“I didn't switch us,” she added.“No. You signed the work order.”“Luca approved it.”“He did.”That seemed to unsettle her more than an accusation would have.“He's letting them blame me for everything. He wouldn't even see me yesterday.”“Then tell the elders what he did.”“You really mean that.”“Yes.”“He bought the engagement ring in September. Did you know that?”“No.”“I was there when he collected it. The jeweler asked whether he wanted the date engraved inside. He said he'd decide later.”My fingers tightened around the phone.“He had it for months, Eve. He just didn't give it to you.”“W

Chapter 12

The first person to ask me about Peter was his wife.Her name was Anna. She came to the hotel on a Thursday morning with a photograph in her handbag and no interest in meeting my father.Rinaldi had asked whether I would see her. I'd agreed before I could lose my nerve.She took the chair opposite mine.“His wedding ring came back in a bag.”I looked at her hands. She was still wearing hers.“I don't know why I'm telling you that.”“You can tell me anything.”She took out the photograph. Peter stood beside a kitchen counter holding a birthday cake that tilted dangerously toward the camera.“His sister made him pose. He hated pictures.”I'd never seen him without his work jacket.Anna studied my face.“Was he alone?”“No.”I told her about the beam. About the way he'd pushed me toward the door. I didn't describe what his arm had felt like in my hands.She asked whether he'd spoken.“He told me to get out.”She closed her eyes.“He would.”I pressed my injured palm against my knee, forge

Chapter 13

My parents went home the following week, and I went with them.The room they had prepared for me was at the back, overlooking the garden. There were bookshelves, a desk, and a bed with a plain white quilt.No framed photographs of a life I hadn't lived. No clothes chosen for me.My mother set a key on the desk.“The lock works from the inside, too.”I picked it up.“If you want us, we're down the hall.”She left before I had to ask for time alone.I unpacked the camera my father had given me and put my adoptive mother's letters in the desk drawer. Then I sat on the bed, holding the key.Before dinner, a deputy mayor came through the side entrance. I recognized him from a newspaper photograph. My father greeted him without a title and closed the study door. Later, Rinaldi escorted him to his car carrying a gift box.My mother drew the curtains before turning on the dining room lights. I had come home, but I hadn't left that world. Different men stood between me and the door now.For the

Chapter 14

The house in Sicily sold in April.My share arrived without a note from Luca. There was a separate offer to repay the money I'd put into the restaurants eight years earlier.I read it at the kitchen table with Rinaldi on the phone.“It's your money coming back. Accepting it buys him nothing. I made that clear.”“Does accepting it oblige me to see him?”“No.”“Then accept it.”I had sold my mother's house to pay those wages. I accepted the repayment.I used some of it to rent a small workshop behind a photography store.The owner was a woman named Helen who developed film, restored old portraits, and had very little patience for customers who wanted damage repaired overnight.She looked at my brace during our first meeting.“Can you do the work?”“Some of it. I'm still recovering.”“Then tell me what you can take on. Don't promise me six repairs and bring back two.”I liked her immediately.The workshop had one high window, a sink that dripped, and enough space for a bench and two chair

Chapter 15

The workshop opened in May.Helen sent me a customer with a jammed advance lever. I repaired it, wrote the bill, and put my name beneath the guarantee.A week later, Rinaldi arrived at closing time.“The capos have chosen. Salvatore is ending it tonight.”I put down the lens I was cleaning.“Do I have to go?”“No.”“I want to hear what happens.”Rinaldi waited while I locked the workshop.The sit-down was in the private dining room of a restaurant that still carried the Vito name. Downstairs, candles stood in wine bottles. Upstairs, every man entering surrendered his gun.Rinaldi led me to the empty bar downstairs. Luca's private papers lay beside a steel bin.“He told me where to find these.”Beneath the copies of my confession was a second set of instructions for the men taking me to Sicily. I wasn't to leave the grounds without his permission.I read the page twice.He had packed my pillow for a house I wouldn't be allowed to leave.“He told the crews you'd be held there until he pa

Chapter 16

The first Christmas after I left Luca, I burned the gingerbread.I had forgotten to set the timer. By the time my father asked whether something was supposed to smell like that, smoke was curling out of the oven.I froze with a towel in my hand.My mother turned off the heat and opened the back door. My father carried the tray outside.Neither of them asked me to stay in the kitchen.I sat on the stairs until the smell cleared.A few minutes later, my father appeared with a cookie between two fingers.“I think this one might be salvageable.”“Don't eat that.”He took a bite anyway, considered it, then reached for the wastebasket.I started laughing before he did.We made the second batch together. My mother rolled the dough too thin. My father pressed the cutters so hard they left marks on the board. I stood between them, showing them how much flour to use.When the timer rang, I opened the oven myself.We let the cookies cool before anyone tried one.There were six places at dinner. M