Chapter 9
Rosa came to the house angry that I summoned her.
That helped.
People who think they’re guilty usually arrive cautious.
People who think they’re right arrive offended.
She entered the study wearing pearls and carrying the same expression she used when criticizing table arrangements at Christmas.
“Dante, this is absurd.”
I placed Mia’s route map on the desk.
She stopped.
Not long.
Enough.
“Explain.”
Rosa sat down without being invited.
“That child needs refinement.”
My hands curled once.
Then relaxed.
“What does that mean?”
“She interrupts adults. She climbs trees in dresses. She asks questions during family dinners.”
“She’s seven.”
“Exactly.”
I almost laughed.
There was always that word.
Exactly.
As if childhood were the best time to remove childhood.
Rosa continued.
“Your mother would be horrified.”
That was a mistake.
“My mother?”
“She had grace.”
“My mother hated half your rules.”
Rosa’s face hardened.
Good.
I had touched something true.
She leaned forward.
“Your mother understood duty.”
“No. She understood survival.”
Silence.
Javier, sitting under guard near the window, watched us closely.
I looked at Rosa.
“What were you planning to do with Mia?”
“Nothing harmful.”
There it was.
Always first.
Not harmful.
Before anyone said harm.
“What?”
“Bring her to my house on weekends.”
“Without asking me?”
“You would say no.”
“Then you knew the answer.”
She sighed like I was difficult.
“She needs women around her who understand what Romano girls become.”
“What do they become?”
Rosa stared.
“Useful.”
That word made the room colder.
Not powerful.
Not independent.
Useful.
“To who?”
“The family.”
I stood.
“Mia is not a tool.”
Rosa rolled her eyes.
“No child is a tool when you phrase it dramatically.”
I looked at her.
“You mapped her school.”
Silence.
“You planned pickups.”
Silence.
“You discussed how to shape her without me knowing.”
Rosa’s mouth tightened.
That was not love.
That was acquisition.
Then she said something unexpected.
“Your wife agreed.”
I stopped.
My wife, Sofia, had been dead five years.
I stared at Rosa.
“What?”
Rosa’s confidence returned.
“She agreed children needed Romano instruction.”
“That’s not what you said.”
No answer.
“You said she agreed to this.”
Rosa looked away.
I knew the difference.
May you like
Somewhere, somehow, someone had been using Sofia’s memory too.
And that was the first secret that frightened me more than Dominic.
