Chapter 7 - THE PRICE OF WALKING AWAY
Z
Unemployment felt different at seven in the morning.
Usually Dora would have been wiping down the breakfast counter, trying to remember whether booth four wanted extra cream or a second cup of coffee.
Instead, she sat at home staring at the kitchen wall.
Caleb placed toast in front of her.
“You quit?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Dora looked up.
“Good?”
“Frank's been taking advantage of you for years.”
“We need rent money.”
“I know.”
“And tuition.”
“I know.”
“And—”
“Dora.”
He sat opposite her.
“I'm twenty-three. You don't have to be my mother forever.”
Her eyes filled.
“I promised Dad I'd look after you.”
“And you did.”
Caleb reached for her hand.
“But maybe it's time we look after each other.”
That afternoon, Leonardo called.
“Elias told me you left the diner.”
Dora sighed.
“Apparently everyone knows.”
“Are you all right?”
“Financially? No. Emotionally? Ask me tomorrow.”
He was quiet.
Then said, “I know several restaurants hiring.”
Dora stared at the phone.
“Leonardo—”
“I'm not offering to buy you a job. I can send public listings.”
She hesitated.
Then smiled faintly.
“Fine.”
“And Dora?”
“Yes?”
“You deserve a workplace where people respect you.”
She looked down.
For some reason, hearing it from him made her want to cry.
The following week, Dora found work at a bakery owned by a woman named Margaret Hill.
Margaret was fifty-eight, outspoken, and deeply suspicious of anyone who called employees a family while refusing to pay overtime.
She interviewed Dora for twenty minutes.
Then asked, “Why'd you leave Rusty's?”
Dora told the truth.
Margaret listened.
Then said, “Good. I don't need someone who can tolerate anything. I need someone who knows when something's wrong.”
Dora stared.
“You're hiring me?”
“If you want the job.”
The pay was better.
The hours were predictable.
And for the first time in years, Dora had two days off every week.
She accepted.
Meanwhile, Leonardo discovered something in his father's archived correspondence.
A letter from Marco.
It had been sent three weeks before his disappearance.
Leo, if anything happens, don't trust Celeste. She isn't protecting this family. She's protecting what she built using our name.
Leonardo read it alone in his office.
Then again.
And again.
He remembered Celeste teaching him to tie his necktie.
Celeste attending his graduation.
Celeste comforting him after Marco disappeared.
For eleven years, she'd told him his brother had abandoned the family.
Now he wondered whether she had known precisely where Marco went.
And whether Thomas Ellis had died because he tried to help him.
That night, Leonardo visited Dora at the bakery after closing.
She was sweeping flour from the floor.
He stood in the doorway.
“May I come in?”
She looked up.
“Are you buying something?”
He smiled faintly.
“Depends what's left.”
“Burned cinnamon rolls.”
“My favorite.”
She laughed.
He approached the counter.
Then hesitated.
“Dora, I need to tell you something.”
Her smile faded.
“What?”
“I found a letter from Marco.”
She put down the broom.
“And?”
“He was afraid of Celeste.”
Dora's face tightened.
“Do you think she killed my father?”
“I don't know.”
“Then why are you here?”
Leonardo looked at her.
“Because I'm tired of people withholding information from you.”
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Dora said quietly, “Thank you.”
His expression softened.
She looked toward the flour-covered counter.
“Do you want a cinnamon roll?”
Leonardo smiled.
“Very much.”
They ate the burned pastries together.
And for twenty minutes, neither talked about murder, money, or dangerous families.
They simply laughed.
It was the first time Dora realized she enjoyed his company.
May you like
Not because he was powerful.
Because beneath his reputation was a man who was beginning to learn how to be honest.
