Chapter 13
Miles returned six months later.
Not to work.
To speak.
He requested ten minutes.
I gave him five.
He looked different without the earpiece.
Smaller somehow.
“What do you want?”
“To tell you something I should have told you before.”
I almost smiled.
“Long list.”
He nodded.
“Camille wanted a child with you.”
My face hardened.
“Why does that matter now?”
“Because she talked about replacement.”
Silence.
There.
“Emma?”
“Yes.”
My hands tightened.
Miles continued.
Camille believed that if she had a Bellucci child, especially a son, the older capos would shift toward her household.
Lucia’s memory would weaken.
Emma would become daughter from the first marriage.
Still loved.
Less central.
The phrase disgusted me.
“Did you agree?”
“No.”
“Did you tell her that?”
“Yes.”
“For once?”
He accepted it.
“Yes.”
Then he said something unexpected.
“That was when I tried to end things with her.”
I stared.
“When?”
“Two months before the music room.”
He had told Camille he would leave the marriage entirely and tell me the truth.
She threatened to expose his years of deception first.
Not to protect herself.
To make sure I saw him as the mastermind.
He became afraid.
Stayed silent.
Then helped less.
Resisted more.
Still did not tell me.
Cowardice again.
Consistent.
“What do you want from me?”
“Nothing.”
Good.
“Then why tell me?”
“Because one day Emma may think Camille hurt her because of something she heard.”
I waited.
Miles looked at me.
“She hurt her because Camille was afraid of what Emma represented.”
Different.
Important.
“She did nothing wrong.”
I already knew.
But someday Emma might need the sentence from more than me.
“Write it.”
Miles frowned.
“A letter?”
“Yes.”
“To Emma?”
“To me.”
Pause.
“If she ever asks about you, I decide whether she sees it.”
He nodded.
No access earned.
No redemption scene guaranteed.
May you like
Just truth stored without forcing itself into a child’s life.
Better.
