Chapter 2 - THE EMPTY BOWL
Dante met Isabela outside his mother’s room.
“What did she say to you?”
Isabela held an empty bowl in both hands. “She asked for more salt.”
“My mother hasn’t asked for anything in weeks.”
“Then tonight was a good night.”
Dante moved into her path. He was taller than she expected up close, dressed in a dark suit without a tie. People in the house dropped their eyes when he passed. Isabela held his gaze.
“You were looking at the camera,” he said.
“There’s one over the door. It’s hard to miss.”
“You knew I was watching.”
“I guessed someone was.”
Dante glanced at the empty bowl. “How did you get her to eat?”
“I listened when she said the food was awful.”
“She says everything is awful.”
“Maybe she’s right about some of it.”
Rafael appeared at the end of the hall, carrying Isabela’s employment folder. Dante stepped aside, but his eyes stayed on her until she disappeared down the service stairs.
In Helena’s room, he found his mother awake.
“You ate,” he said.
“Yes. I’m sure you’ve already seen the footage.”
Dante sat on the edge of the bed. “Are you feeling better?”
Helena studied him. “She reminds me of someone.”
“Who?”
“I can’t remember.”
Dante’s relief faded. His mother’s memory had grown unreliable since her fall. Some days she knew the names of every member of the household. Other days she asked for people who had died twenty years earlier.
Helena touched his sleeve. “Don’t let that girl go.”
“I haven’t decided anything about her.”
“She didn’t tell me I was confused.” Helena looked toward the door. “She asked what I meant.”
Downstairs, Isabela locked herself inside a supply closet and pulled a folded photograph from her pocket.
In it, a younger Helena stood beside a woman holding a baby. Across the back, in faded blue ink, someone had written:
IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME, TELL HELENA THE TRUTH ABOUT THE CHILD.
Isabela was the baby.
May you like
She heard footsteps outside and slipped the photograph away.
A key turned in the closet door.
