Chương 9
The nursery remained unfinished.
Inspectors required a second exit, changes to the fire suppression system, and a licensed childcare provider. Dominic had wanted a room ready overnight. Reality demanded permits, background checks, contracts, and patience. Mara took quiet satisfaction in watching him lose arguments to municipal forms.
She still refused his car.
The security detail remained, though the men stopped parking directly outside her building after Priya sent a letter. They positioned themselves half a block away. Mara could identify them by the way they pretended not to watch her.
One evening, she crossed the street and knocked on the driver’s window.
The man lowered it.
“You’re bad at this,” she said.
He looked offended. “At what?”
“Being invisible.”
“I’m not supposed to be invisible. I’m supposed to discourage approach.”
“From Victor?”
“From anyone.”
“I’m more likely to get robbed because people think I have something worth guarding.”
The driver considered that. “Fair.”
“Go home.”
“Can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I enjoy continued employment.”
“Does everyone answer to Dominic like he’s gravity?”
The driver glanced toward the rearview mirror. “Gravity doesn’t provide dental.”
Mara almost smiled. “What’s your name?”
“Eddie.”
“Eddie, if you follow me into the grocery store again, I’m putting diapers in your cart.”
“They were on sale.”
“That isn’t the point.”
“I know.”
The next morning, the photographs appeared online.
The headline called Mara a MAFIA RESTAURANT MOM. The article repeated anonymous claims that Aurelia had hidden an infant near toxic chemicals while the child’s mother served wealthy guests. It described Dominic as an “alleged organized-crime figure,” quoted a former employee who accused management of intimidation, and included a photograph of Mara leaving the restaurant with Ellie under her coat.
By noon, strangers had found her social media account.
Some called her selfish. Others called her poor as though poverty were a moral category. A parenting influencer posted a six-minute video analyzing Mara’s expression in the closet photograph. A man who sold home-security systems offered to install cameras in her apartment if she agreed to film the process. Someone sent a message saying Owen would be ashamed.
That one found the deepest place.
Mara deleted the app, then reinstalled it twenty minutes later to take screenshots for Priya.
Diane called.
“You’re on the internet,” she said.
“I know.”
“The television too.”
“What channel?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes. Priya needs to track it.”
A pause. “You sound like you have lawyers now.”
“I have one.”
“Paid by him?”
“No.”
“How can I believe that?”
Mara closed her eyes. “Diane, I don’t have energy for this.”
“Neither did my son, but he kept working.”
The words arrived quietly.
Mara gripped the phone. “Say what you mean.”
“I mean Owen took every shift offered because you two were always behind.”
“We were behind because the hospital charged us three thousand dollars after the insurance adjustment.”
“You bought that crib.”
“The crib cost eighty dollars.”
“He drove twelve hours that night.”
“He chose to.”
“Because you asked him.”
“I asked him if we could pay the electric bill.”
Diane’s breathing changed.
Mara stood in the kitchen staring at the mustard jar in the refrigerator door. “Do you think I killed him?”
“No.”
“Do you?”
“I think he was tired.”
“So do I.”
“I think you were both too young to understand what tired can do.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No,” Diane said. “It isn’t.”
Ellie began fussing in the living room.
Mara lowered her voice. “I need you to watch her tomorrow for three hours.”
After a long silence, Diane said, “All right.”
“Can you do it without looking at me like I put Owen in the truck?”
Another silence.
“I can try,” Diane said.
It was not forgiveness. It was more useful.
At Aurelia, protesters gathered outside during dinner service. Some carried signs about child safety. Others carried signs about organized crime. One man had written BOYCOTT BABY LASAGNA, which made no sense but appeared in three photographs.
Dominic wanted Mara to stay away.
She arrived through the front entrance.
Cameras turned toward her before Colin could open the door. Reporters shouted questions. Had she been paid? Was Dominic Ellie’s father? Why had she endangered her baby? Did she fear retaliation?
Mara stopped beneath the awning.
Eddie appeared at her left. Another security man moved to her right. She raised one hand, and both stopped.
“My daughter is not related to Dominic Moretti,” she said. “I was not paid to bring her to work. I made a desperate decision because I believed losing one shift could cost me my job and my apartment. My manager used that fear. He locked the door. He also used my name to steal money from a fund I didn’t know existed.”
Questions came faster.
“Did Mr. Moretti know?”
“Not that I’ve seen.”
“Are you defending him?”
“No.”
The reporters quieted just enough to hear her.
“I’m saying what I know,” Mara continued. “Mr. Moretti built a company where one manager could control schedules, emergency help, and complaints without enough oversight. He is responsible for that. I am responsible for bringing Ellie into an unsafe place. Victor Sorrelli is responsible for locking her inside, falsifying my signature, and trying to frighten me into lying.”
A reporter held a microphone closer. “Why should anyone believe you?”
“They shouldn’t because I’m crying on the sidewalk or because I look like someone they know. They should look at the records.”
“You aren’t crying,” the reporter said.
Mara stared at him. “Then I guess you’ll have to survive the disappointment.”
Someone behind the cameras laughed.
She went inside.
Dominic waited in the vestibule, his expression unreadable.
“You were told not to come,” he said.
“You don’t get to tell me that.”
“You could have been hurt.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You did not know that beforehand.”
“You didn’t know I was in a closet hallway every ten minutes, and you keep telling me what you know about risk.”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Victor’s people are still unaccounted for.”
May you like
“People?”
“Two men who worked security under him.”
