Chapter 2
Milo would not let go of Clara.
I moved both children into my private study while the stage was secured.
Clara sat on the sofa.
Milo climbed almost completely into her lap.
That mattered.
He was four.
She was eight.
And he trusted his sister more quickly than he trusted the adults filling the hallway.
I crouched.
“Milo.”
He looked at me.
“Did Victor tell you where you were going?”
He shook his head.
“He said magic.”
“What kind?”
“Disappear.”
My chest tightened.
“And come back?”
Milo stared at the floor.
“No.”
Clara began crying.
I looked at her.
“What did you hear?”
She swallowed.
“Aunt Teresa said everybody would search the gardens first.”
I stayed completely still.
She continued.
“Then Uncle Victor said by then Milo would already be past the north gate.”
Not merely remove the boy.
Delay pursuit.
Control the first hours.
“What were you supposed to say?”
Clara looked ashamed.
“That Milo wandered away.”
“Why you?”
Her answer hurt.
“Because people believe kids.”
There it was.
Teresa had intended to use one child as the credible witness explaining another child’s disappearance.
I sat back.
“Did she threaten you?”
Clara nodded.
“She said if I ruined it, Mom would lose her house.”
My sister, Elena.
Clara’s mother.
Currently in Europe caring for her sick husband.
Teresa had custody of Clara for the week.
Convenient.
“What house?”
Clara shrugged.
“She said Grandma’s house belongs to family and family can take it back.”
Property as obedience.
Old Marzano language.
I knew it well.
Milo touched my sleeve.
“Dad?”
“Yes.”
“Was I bad?”
The question nearly stopped me.
“No.”
“Victor said good boys don’t scream in magic boxes.”
My jaw clenched.
I forced it loose before he saw.
“You were allowed to scream.”
He watched me.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Then Clara whispered:
“They told him you wanted the trick.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
My name again.
The easiest weapon in a powerful house.
Daddy approved.
Daddy ordered it.
Daddy knows.
I looked at both children.
“I did not know.”
Milo’s face changed slowly.
Relief mixed with confusion.
Then Clara said:
“I knew.”
I turned.
“How?”
“Because you promised Milo you’d never do disappearing tricks with him.”
Memory came back.
A circus months ago.
Milo hated the vanishing act.
I promised.
Clara remembered.
May you like
She had saved her brother because she trusted one ordinary promise more than two powerful adults.
That frightened me more than the trapdoor.
