Chapter 13
I brought the senior capos into the memorial room the next afternoon.
The portrait remained off the wall.
The hidden passage remained open.
I wanted no decoration between them and what happened.
Helena objected.
“This is a family matter.”
I looked at the men around us.
“It became a family matter when all of you spent four years standing in this room mourning a living woman.”
Nobody spoke.
Sofia did not attend.
Her choice.
I respected it.
Marco sat without his family pin.
Helena stood.
Always standing.
Always needing to look as though she belonged above the situation.
I played the recording.
Her voice filled the room.
A dead wife can’t influence anyone.
One old capo closed his eyes.
Another looked directly at Helena.
“You did this?”
She did not deny it anymore.
“I did what Vincent refused to do.”
I stared.
“And what was that?”
“Choose the family over a woman.”
There it was.
Simple enough for everyone.
One capo asked:
“You kept her in the wall for four years?”
Helena’s expression hardened.
“She was fed.”
I felt disgust move through the room.
She noticed.
“It was not some dungeon.”
I almost laughed.
This was how people like Helena survived themselves.
Define cruelty narrowly enough and anything outside the definition becomes acceptable.
I stepped closer.
“She heard her own memorial through the wall.”
Helena said nothing.
“She heard her daughter cry.”
Still nothing.
“You told her Clara forgot her.”
Her jaw tightened.
“She refused to cooperate.”
The oldest capo in the room finally spoke.
“With what?”
Helena looked at him.
“Giving back what belonged to this family.”
He shook his head.
“No.”
His voice was tired.
“The recording belonged to the woman you planned to remove.”
Helena stared.
Then he said the sentence that ended her authority.
“You were not protecting the family.”
May you like
Pause.
“You were protecting yourself from being exposed.”
