Chapter 4 - THE DRAWING UNDER THE PILLOW
Sophie refused to sleep.
Elena sat beside her in a guest bedroom while a physician examined the bruise on Elena's cheek.
The little girl held her stuffed rabbit against her chest.
Every few minutes, she looked toward the door.
“Is the bad man coming back?” she whispered.
Elena stroked her hair.
“No, baby.”
Sophie frowned.
“Promise?”
Elena hesitated.
Then kissed her forehead.
“I promise I'll stay with you.”
Dante arrived an hour later.
He knocked before entering.
Elena stood.
“Mr. Moretti.”
“Please sit.”
He looked at Sophie.
“How are you feeling?”
The little girl shrugged.
“Scared.”
Dante nodded.
“That's understandable.”
He sat in a chair near the bed.
“Can I ask you something?”
Sophie looked toward her mother.
Elena nodded.
Dante spoke gently.
“When you saw the lady with the bottle, what were you doing?”
Sophie thought.
“Drawing.”
“Where?”
“In the little room with the plants.”
“The conservatory?”
She nodded.
“Did you draw what you saw?”
Sophie looked surprised.
“Yes.”
Elena frowned.
“Sweetheart, where's your drawing?”
Sophie reached beneath her pillow.
She pulled out a folded sheet of paper.
Dante accepted it carefully.
The drawing showed a table.
A woman in a cream dress.
A small bottle.
A man wearing a dark suit.
And something unusual.
A red rectangle beside the man.
Dante pointed.
“What's this?”
Sophie leaned forward.
“His book.”
Dante frowned.
“What book?”
“The red one.”
He looked at Elena.
“Did Victor carry a red notebook?”
Elena thought.
“Yes.”
Dante's expression changed.
Victor had kept a small red appointment book for years.
It contained meeting schedules, vehicle assignments, and private notes.
Sophie pointed again.
“He put it in the flower box.”
Dante looked up.
“What flower box?”
“The one with the white flowers.”
The conservatory contained dozens of planters.
But only one large white orchid arrangement stood near the service entrance.
Dante folded the drawing.
“Thank you, Sophie.”
She smiled faintly.
“Did I do good?”
He looked at her.
“You did something very important.”
Sophie hesitated.
“Are you mad at me?”
Dante stared.
“Why would I be?”
“Because Mama says I shouldn't interrupt grown-ups.”
Something tightened in his chest.
He leaned forward.
“Sometimes grown-ups need to be interrupted.”
Sophie considered that.
Then nodded seriously.
When Dante left, Elena followed him into the hallway.
“Mr. Moretti.”
He turned.
She swallowed.
“My daughter doesn't understand your world.”
Dante nodded.
“I know.”
“She shouldn't have to.”
He looked at her.
“No.”
Elena's voice trembled.
“I don't want her growing up afraid.”
Dante studied her.
Then said:
May you like
“Neither do I.”
It was the first honest thing he had said about his own world in years.
