Chapter 2
I pointed toward the narrow space beside the sideboard.
The sideboard held a bowl of oranges and a silver clock that ticked too loudly. I had stood there with Rabbit tucked under my arm while the woman leaned close. I remembered the smell of butter on her fingers, though I still couldn't see her face when I tried.
Alessandro walked there first. He looked at the floor, the wall, and the lower edge of the sideboard.
“Stay where I can see you,” he said.
I stayed beside the table.
He crouched, but his suit did not touch the floor. His hand moved under the sideboard without reaching far. When he pulled it back, there was nothing in it.
“Did she stand here the whole time?” he asked.
“She moved.”
“Where?”
I pointed toward the breakfast table. “She looked at the bread.”
“Did she touch it?”
I nodded.
“With what hand?”
I stared at my own hands. “I don't know.”
“That's okay.”
He said it quickly, before I could think I had failed.
The doorway stayed empty. I kept expecting the woman to come through it, smiling like she had when she gave me the money. Her smile had made me think I was being good. That was the part I hated most.
Alessandro went to the wall phone and called someone. He spoke in a low voice, but I heard enough.
“I need the dining room kept closed,” he said. “No one moves the plate or the money. No, don't send anyone in yet.”
He listened.
“Bring a paper bag and gloves.”
When he hung up, I asked, “Are you mad at me?”
His eyebrows drew together. “No.”
“Because I didn't tell you before.”
“No.”
“I was going to.”
“When?”
I looked at the floor. “After you ate it.”
He became very still.
I didn't like the silence, so I added, “I thought if it was medicine, maybe it wasn't bad.”
“That was not your job to figure out.”
“She said grown-ups know what to do.”
“Grown-ups are supposed to keep children from carrying things like this.” He rubbed his thumb against the edge of his watch. “She put you in the middle.”
The words made my eyes sting. I had thought I had walked into the middle by myself.
He noticed, but he didn't tell me not to cry. He opened the chair beside him and sat down, leaving space between us.
“Did she say why she wanted me to eat it?”
“No.”
“Did she tell you it would hurt me?”
“No.”
“What did she say?”
I pressed Rabbit's nose against my mouth. “She said you would be calmer after.”
Alessandro looked at the bread for a long time.
“Did she say that word?”
“Calmer.”
He took another picture. This time he included the glass, the plate, and the crumbs near the edge of the marble.
A car door shut somewhere outside. I flinched.
Alessandro saw it. “Was that her?”
“I don't know.”
He stood and moved toward the window, but he did not look out right away. He checked my reflection in the glass first. I could see both of us there: my pale blue top, his dark shirt, Rabbit between us like a small person.
“Would you rather go somewhere else?” he asked.
“Where?”
“A public place. A diner, maybe. Or we can stay here with the doors open.”
I imagined the woman in every place. At a diner she could sit in a booth. In a hallway she could stand behind a door. At home she already knew where I was.
“Not the room with the blue curtains,” I said.
“Okay.”
He didn't ask why. He only nodded.
A man’s voice called from the hall. “Alessandro?”
I tucked the money farther under the glass with one finger, then pulled my hand back.
Alessandro turned toward the doorway. “Come in.”
A household worker stepped inside carrying a paper bag and a pair of disposable gloves. I didn't know his name. He looked at the table, then at me, and stopped.
“Put them down,” Alessandro said. “Don't touch anything.”
The man obeyed.
Then he said, “The woman is waiting in the front sitting room.”
My hand found Alessandro's sleeve again.
He looked at the clock.
“How long has she been there?” he asked.
“Just a few minutes.”
“Did she ask for Emma?”
The man hesitated. “She asked whether breakfast was finished.”
Alessandro's fingers closed once at his side. Then he opened them.
“Tell her I’m not available.”
The man glanced toward me.
Alessandro's voice stayed calm. “And nobody tells her Emma is here.”
After he left, Alessandro closed the dining-room door, but he did not lock it.
“Why didn't you make her leave?” I asked.
“Because I don't want her to know what we have yet.”
“You said no one was going to control what happened.”
“No one is.” He met my eyes. “But choosing when to speak is different from being forced to stay quiet.”
I thought about the folded money under the glass.
“What happens to it?”
“We keep it exactly where it is until someone qualified can document it.”
“Will you show them?”
“Yes.”
“Will they ask me questions?”
“Probably.”
I started to cry then, silently. Alessandro took a napkin from the table and set it beside me. He didn't put it in my hand.
“You can say no to a question you aren't ready to answer,” he said. “I’ll remind them.”
A phone buzzed in his pocket.
He looked at the screen. His expression did not change, but his shoulders did.
“What is it?” I asked.
He turned the phone so I could see.
The message had no name. Only a sentence.
May you like
Bring Emma to the front room.
I didn't know how the woman had sent it. I only knew she had found a way to reach us.
