Chapter 11
Lena stopped sleeping.
I knew because I stopped sleeping too.
We met often in the kitchen at 3:00 a.m., both pretending we wanted water.
One night, she found me reading Matteo’s files.
“You loved him.”
“Yes.”
“Was he good?”
I stared at the pages.
“He was better than me.”
“That is not what I asked.”
Fair.
“Matteo was kind when kindness cost nothing. He became brave when it cost everything.”
Lena smiled sadly.
“That sounds like him.”
“Tell me about him with Mia.”
She leaned against the counter.
“He sang off-key. He bought baby shoes too big because he said she would grow into important things. He cried when she smiled for the first time.”
My throat tightened.
“I missed all of it.”
“Yes.”
She did not soften it.
I appreciated that.
Then she said, “But she is not finished growing.”
The words stayed with me.
A child is not only what you missed.
She is what you show up for now.
The next day, Vittorio sent a message through an old family priest.
Meet me where Matteo died.
Come alone.
Rafael said no.
Anika said absolutely not.
Lena said, “If you go alone, you are not brave. You are stupid.”
Mia, coloring at the table, added, “Stupid is bad.”
The council had spoken.
We made a plan instead.
The warehouse where Matteo died had been abandoned for years.
Police wired the perimeter.
Rafael placed loyal men beyond them.
I went in wearing a recorder.
Not alone.
Just visible alone.
Vittorio stepped from the shadows.
Older.
Elegant.
Still carrying my childhood in his voice.
“You brought police.”
“Yes.”
He sighed.
“I raised you better.”
“You raised me obedient.”
“I raised you powerful.”
“You raised me lonely.”
That hit.
His mouth tightened.
“Matteo betrayed us.”
“Matteo had a daughter.”
“He created leverage.”
“He created life.”
Vittorio pulled a gun.
I did not move.
“Still need weapons to feel like family?” I asked.
He smiled.
Then gunfire cracked outside.
Not from him.
From the roof.
A second faction had arrived.
Silvio.
May you like
Vittorio had not invited me to surrender.
He had invited me to die in a crossfire.
