Chapter 2 - The Room at Four
The brooch in the photograph was perfect.
Even from the doorway, I could see both blue wings spread across Carmela Falcone’s dress.
Dante looked at Sophia.
“What do you mean, broken?”
“The little wing.”
Vittorio stepped into the room before anyone else.
“She’s looking at a photograph. Children make things up.”
Dante ignored him.
He crossed to a narrow cabinet beside the fireplace, pulled open the top drawer, and took out a small black box.
Inside lay the hummingbird.
One wing was missing.
Something changed in the hallway. Not a sound. More like every person there had decided to breathe less.
Dante held the box so Sophia could see.
“Is this what you meant?”
She nodded.
“She was sad about it.”
I picked my daughter up.
“That’s enough questions.”
Dante turned toward me.
For one terrible second, I thought I had forgotten where I worked.
Then I felt Sophia’s arms tighten around my neck, and I decided I didn’t care.
“She’s tired,” I said. “And she’s three.”
Dante closed the box.
“You’re right.”
Vittorio gave a short laugh.
“Of course she’s tired. Let Rosa take her home.”
I should have been relieved.
Instead, I noticed how quickly he had said it.
Dante looked back at the photograph.
“How did she see the brooch?”
Mrs. Bell swallowed.
“I don’t know, sir.”
“Has anybody opened this room?”
“No.”
Vittorio put a hand on his brother’s shoulder.
“Carmela is gone. Opening old doors won’t change that.”
Dante stepped out from under his hand.
“Leave me alone for a minute.”
We moved toward the kitchen.
Sophia rested her cheek against my shoulder.
“Did I make Mister sad again?”
“No, baby.”
“He was happy.”
“I know.”
In the pantry, Mrs. Bell shut the door behind us.
Her face had gone pale.
“The brooch broke the night Carmela died,” she whispered. “Dante brought it home himself. He put it in that box.”
“Then somebody told Sophia.”
“Who?”
I had no answer.
Sophia lifted her head.
“Mommy, can I have crackers?”
The ordinary question nearly broke me.
I sat her at the staff table with a small plate and a glass of water. My hands shook so badly that I spilled some.
When I turned toward the sink, Mrs. Bell caught my wrist.
“Don’t leave her alone with Vittorio.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
She released me immediately.
The pantry door opened.
Vittorio stood there with his pleasant, polished smile.
“Rosa. A word.”
May you like
His eyes moved to Sophia.
“About the things your little girl has been saying.”
