Chương 12
Marco released him.
"I know what you promised Elena."
Vincent's voice went flat.
"He photographed Sophie."
"He sold a photograph."
"That distinction won't save him."
"It needs to."
Vincent stared at him.
Marco stood his ground.
"Not because Anthony deserves mercy."
"Then why?"
"Because she is watching what you do next."
Vincent looked back toward Elena's room.
Sophie was visible through the glass, eating pudding and swinging one leg.
Marco lowered his voice.
"You said you wanted to know what happens if she's yours."
Vincent's hands slowly unclenched.
Marco continued.
"This is the first answer."
Vincent stood there for several seconds.
Then he took out his phone.
He called Elena.
She answered while looking directly through the glass at him.
"I found who sold the hospital photo."
Her face changed.
"Who?"
"Someone who works for me."
"Are you going to hurt him?"
Vincent looked at Marco.
Marco said nothing.
"No."
Elena held his gaze.
"Are you sure?"
Vincent felt the old answer rise inside him.
The easy answer.
The answer that had governed most of his adult life.
Then Sophie lifted the empty pudding cup toward her mother like a trophy.
Vincent looked back at Elena.
"Yes."
He ended the call.
Marco exhaled.
Vincent started toward the elevator.
"What are you going to do?"
"Fire him."
"That's all?"
"No."
Marco looked concerned again.
Vincent pressed the elevator button.
"I'm going to let Elena's lawyer decide whether she wants to sue him."
Marco stared.
"What?"
Vincent stepped into the elevator.
"You wanted civilized."
"I didn't expect you to become terrifying in a completely different direction."
The doors began to close.
Vincent looked at him.
"Get in."
Marco did.
Twenty minutes later, before they reached the office, Vincent's phone rang again.
This time the caller was the testing laboratory.
He answered without speaking.
The woman verified his identity.
Then she said the results were complete sooner than expected because the samples had been processed with that day's batch.
Vincent listened.
His hand tightened around the phone.
Marco watched him.
The woman gave him a percentage.
Vincent did not hear anything after that.
When the call ended, Marco waited.
Vincent looked out the window at the city moving past.
Then he said, very quietly, "She's mine."
Marco did not answer.
For once, there was nothing useful he could say.
Vincent kept looking through the window as Queens blurred past in pieces of brick, glass, scaffolding, and traffic lights.
He had expected certainty to feel solid.
Instead it felt like the floor had moved.
A father.
The word had never belonged to him.
His own father had been a loud man with impatient hands, expensive shoes, and a habit of asking questions he had already decided the answers to.
Vincent had spent half his life becoming different from him and the other half becoming similar in ways he preferred not to examine.
Now there was Sophie.
Six years and four months of Sophie.
Marco finally spoke.
"You need to tell Elena."
"I know."
"Before anyone else."
"I know."
"You should probably not do it over the phone."
Vincent turned toward him.
"Do you think I'm stupid?"
Marco considered this.
"Situationally."
Vincent almost smiled.
Almost.
"Take me back."
Marco nodded toward the driver.
The car turned at the next intersection.
Vincent called Anthony Serrano before they reached the hospital.
Anthony answered on the second ring.
"Boss?"
"You're done."
Silence.
"Vincent, I can explain."
"No."
"It was one picture."
"Of a child."
"I didn't know she was—"
"That sentence gets worse no matter how you finish it."
Anthony breathed into the phone.
"I needed money."
"Then you could have asked for work."
"I have work."
"Then you could have asked for a loan."
Another silence.
"My wife doesn't know."
Vincent looked out the window.
"Know what?"
Anthony hesitated too long.
Marco watched Vincent's face.
"Gambling," Anthony said.
Vincent shut his eyes.
"How much?"
"Twenty-seven."
"Thousand?"
"Yeah."
Vincent rubbed his forehead.
His anger shifted shape.
It did not disappear.
It became less clean.
"Who did you sell the picture to?"
"A guy who buys stuff."
"Name."
Anthony gave it.
Marco immediately wrote it down.
Vincent said, "You're fired."
"Please."
"You're fired."
"I got two kids."
"So do a lot of men who don't photograph somebody else's."
Anthony began speaking faster.
"I wasn't thinking."
"No."
Vincent's voice stayed quiet.
"You were thinking about three thousand dollars."
"I can give it back."
"You think that's the problem?"
"No."
"You'll turn over every message, every payment record, and every contact related to the sale to Marco."
Anthony said nothing.
"If Elena chooses to pursue it legally, you cooperate."
"Vincent."
"If you don't, then you deal with me."
Marco looked at him.
Vincent caught the warning in his expression and added, "Through lawyers."
Anthony breathed out shakily.
"Okay."
Vincent ended the call.
Marco stared.
"What?"
"You added the last part because I looked at you."
"I was already going to say it."
"No, you weren't."
Vincent put the phone away.
"You're becoming irritating."
"I've always been irritating."
"True."
When they returned to Elena's floor, Sophie was sitting cross-legged on the visitor chair with a deck of cards spread across the bedside table.
Mr. Chen had apparently taught her something that involved accusing everyone of cheating.
"You have three queens," she told him.
Mr. Chen shrugged.
"Maybe queens like me."
"That's cheating."
"That is charm."
Elena noticed Vincent first.
Her smile disappeared.
She knew from his face.
Vincent stopped just inside the doorway.
Mr. Chen gathered the cards without being asked.
"Come."
Sophie looked up.
"Why?"
"Juice."
"I already had juice."
"Pretzels."
"I already had pretzels."
Mr. Chen sighed.
"You are difficult customer."
Sophie crossed her arms.
Vincent said, "Stay."
Elena looked at him.
He did not look away.
"If you're okay with that."
Her mouth tightened.
Then she nodded.
Mr. Chen stayed too.
May you like
Vincent took the folded laboratory printout from inside his jacket.
He had asked Marco to have a copy delivered from the lab portal and printed at the hospital business center because he did not want this conversation happening around a glowing phone screen.
