Chương 10
Not forty-eight.
She circled the number.
Luca noticed. “He changed it.”
“Yes.”
“He does that.”
“What?”
“Says a small number first.”
Mara looked at the boy. “That is useful information.”
“He said we were going away for two days when Mom died.”
“How long were you gone?”
“Three months.”
She folded the form.
A television mounted above the cafeteria entrance showed local morning news. The volume was low, but a red banner beneath an anchor displayed the Bellaro name.
Video from a traffic camera showed lines of black SUVs moving through snow near Mara’s county road. The footage repeated twice.
Luca saw it.
“Those are Dad’s cars.”
“Some of them.”
The anchor said reports of a private-security mobilization had prompted road closures and a state review. No injuries had been confirmed. Bellaro Freight had not responded to requests for comment.
Mara’s phone began vibrating across the table.
She had forgotten it was in her coat. The screen showed eighteen missed calls, eleven messages, and notifications from people she had not heard from in years.
Her sister, Erin, had sent six texts.
Are you safe?
Why is your cabin on TV?
Mara, call me now.
A reporter had left a voicemail. So had the township supervisor. Her neighbor wanted to know whether the black vehicles had damaged the shared road.
The world had found the cabin.
Luca dipped a cereal square into his hot chocolate.
“Are people mad?”
“They’re curious.”
“Is that bad?”
“It depends on what they think curiosity permits.”
She called Erin.
Her sister answered before the first ring completed.
“What happened?”
“I’m safe.”
“That is not an explanation.”
“I know.”
“Are you with Dante Bellaro?”
Mara looked at Luca.
“Yes.”
Erin went silent.
Eight years earlier, Mara had told her only enough to explain why she was leaving Chicago. She had never described Northline or the photographs of Erin’s children.
“You said you were done with those people.”
“I was.”
“Then why are there helicopters over your lake?”
Mara looked toward the cafeteria windows. A dark shape moved through the low clouds.
“I made a mistake.”
“What kind?”
“I opened the door.”
Erin inhaled sharply.
“Mara, come here. Bring the boy if you have to. Just get away from them.”
“I can’t bring this to your house.”
“You already brought it to my phone.”
The truth of that landed.
Erin lowered her voice. “The girls are seeing your name online.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize yet. Tell me what you need.”
Mara closed her eyes.
She had spent years protecting her sister through distance. Erin had interpreted the distance as judgment, then as grief, then simply as Mara being Mara. Neither had named the fear underneath.
“I need you to take the girls to Mom’s for a few days,” Mara said. “Do not use your normal car if someone offers another one. Don’t answer unfamiliar calls. Send me a message when you arrive.”
“This is insane.”
“Yes.”
“Are you in danger?”
Mara looked at Luca, who had stopped eating.
“I don’t know.”
“You always know.”
“No,” Mara said. “I usually pretend earlier.”
After the call, Luca pushed his cup toward her.
“You can have the rest.”
“I don’t like hot chocolate.”
“My mom didn’t either.”
“What did she drink?”
“Tea that smelled like grass.”
Mara took the cup anyway.
A hospital security guard entered the cafeteria and approached their table.
“Ms. Ellis?”
“Yes.”
“There’s a man in the lobby asking to see Luca. Says he’s the boy’s uncle.”
Luca went pale.
Mara stood.
“Did you let him in?”
“No. State police are speaking with him.”
“Does he have lawyers?”
The guard glanced toward the hall. “Several.”
Rocco Bellaro had arrived without a convoy.
He stood in the hospital lobby wearing a charcoal overcoat and no visible snow on his shoulders. He was two years younger than Dante and less physically imposing, with silver beginning at his temples and the composed face of a man whose worst decisions were usually carried out by others.
Two attorneys stood behind him. A woman with a leather portfolio was speaking to Trooper Hart. Another man held a folder bearing the seal of a county court.
Rocco saw Luca first.
His expression softened with convincing precision.
“There he is.”
Mara stopped ten feet away.
Luca moved behind her.
The softness in Rocco’s face faltered.
“Luca,” he said. “I came to take you somewhere safe.”
“I’m safe here.”
Rocco looked at Mara.
“You’ve had a difficult night.”
“I’ve had more interesting houseguests.”
“I regret the intrusion.”
“You photographed my cabin and sent a threat.”
“I sent a request to my brother’s security chief.”
“You wrote that the boy stays with you.”
“My attorneys advise me that Dante’s condition and recent conduct require temporary protection for Luca.”
The woman with the portfolio stepped forward.
“We have filed for emergency kinship placement pending a hearing.”
Mara looked at Trooper Hart.
The trooper’s expression was guarded. “Nothing has been granted. The filing requests an expedited review.”
Rocco crouched slightly, bringing himself nearer Luca’s eye level without approaching.
“I made up your room,” he said. “The blue one.”
“I don’t like blue.”
“You used to.”
“I was five.”
Rocco looked surprised. The reaction seemed genuine.
Luca pressed Milo to his chest.
“My mom said you don’t listen until people agree with you.”
One of the attorneys stared at the floor.
Rocco rose.
“Your mother said many things when she was upset.”
“What did she say before she died?”
Dante’s brother did not answer.
Mara felt the question move through the lobby like cold air.
Rocco’s gaze shifted toward the elevator leading to Dante’s floor.
“Has my brother been discussing Celia with him?”
“Luca asked,” Mara said.
“And Dante answered?”
“Not sufficiently.”
Rocco’s jaw tightened. “That is between brothers.”
“No,” Mara said. “Celia was Luca’s mother. Nothing about her death belongs only to you.”
May you like
The attorney with the folder intervened.
“Ms. Ellis, you have no legal relationship to the child beyond a temporary authorization signed this morning by an impaired parent.”
