Chapter 9
Celia’s grave was found outside Milwaukee.
False name.
Cheap stone.
Wrong date.
Detective Harris brought us the file.
Celia had died five years earlier in what was ruled an overdose.
She had no history of drug use.
The doctor who signed the report was retired now.
The same doctor Portia had paid.
Maisie listened from the doorway.
We had not known she was there.
“My mama didn’t take bad medicine,” she said.
Flora rushed to her.
Maisie pulled away.
“She didn’t.”
I knelt.
“I believe you.”
Her face crumpled.
“No one said that before.”
Those words stayed under my skin.
We reopened Celia’s case.
Then Elena’s.
Elena had not left my father.
She died in a “boardinghouse fire” six months after giving birth to Celia.
Portia was in the city that same week.
So was Carlo.
My family name appeared in the file too.
My father had paid someone after the fire.
I stared at the receipt.
I wanted my father innocent.
The dead are easier to love when their crimes stay buried.
Vivian touched my arm.
“You don’t have to defend him.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
No.
Not yet.
But I learned.
Rocco, my oldest advisor, confirmed my father knew about Celia.
“He searched quietly,” Rocco said. “Your mother made him stop.”
“My mother?”
He lowered his eyes.
“She said a hidden child would destroy alliances.”
I laughed bitterly.
“All these people protecting family by burying children.”
May you like
Rocco did not answer.
There was no answer clean enough.
