Chapter 2 - THE GIRL WHO REFUSED TO LOOK AWAYBy midnight, the wedding had been canceled.
Bianca was removed from the estate under guard while arrangements were made to involve the authorities. Dante rescinded his earlier order to confine her in the boiler room.
Vittorio had left the banquet before anyone could question him further.
And Nicole was finally sleeping in a real bed.
I stood beside the enormous four-poster bed in Dante's private suite, watching the boy breathe.
His face looked younger in sleep.
Without the terror in his eyes, he seemed like an ordinary fifteen-year-old.
A child who should have been worrying about school, music, friends, and whether he could stay up late.
Not locked doors.
Not shipping manifests.
Not the people who had murdered his father.
Dante appeared in the doorway.
His injured hand was bandaged.
His black shirt had been replaced by a gray sweater.
He looked exhausted.
"How is he?"
"Sleeping."
Dante approached the bed.
He stared at his brother for a long time.
Then whispered, "I didn't know."
I said nothing.
He turned toward me.
"Ten months."
I looked up.
"What?"
"You've been here ten months. How long has this been happening?"
I swallowed.
"Bianca moved him to the basement three weeks ago."
His jaw tightened.
"And before that?"
"She wouldn't allow him to eat with the family. She canceled his therapy appointments. She told the staff he was dangerous."
Dante closed his eyes.
"Why didn't anyone tell me?"
I hesitated.
He looked at me.
"Elena."
"Because everyone was afraid."
"Of Bianca?"
"Of losing their jobs. Of losing their homes. Of what would happen if they crossed your fiancée."
His expression hardened.
"And you?"
I looked down.
"My mother needs treatment."
He nodded slowly.
"I know."
"No, sir. I don't think you do."
The words escaped before I could stop them.
Dante stared.
I took a breath.
"Bianca told me she could have my mother removed from the clinic. She said she'd report her immigration status. She said she'd make sure no hospital would take her."
Dante went very still.
"She threatened your mother?"
I nodded.
His eyes darkened.
Then he looked at Nicole.
"And you still fed him."
I swallowed.
"He was hungry."
For a long moment, Dante said nothing.
Then he pulled out a chair.
"Sit down, Elena."
I hesitated.
"Please."
I sat.
He lowered himself into the chair opposite mine.
"Tell me everything."
I told him about the meals Nicole never received.
About the wheelchair Bianca ordered hidden whenever guests visited.
About the nights I heard the boy tapping on the basement door.
About the way Nicole flinched whenever someone raised a hand.
And about the small notebook I had secretly kept.
Every missed meal.
Every canceled appointment.
Every threat.
Every time I found him shivering in the cellar.
Dante listened without interrupting.
When I finished, his face looked older.
"Why did you keep records?"
"Because I thought one day someone might believe him."
Dante stared at me.
Then looked toward his brother.
"He couldn't tell me."
"He tried."
Dante's eyes filled.
I continued softly.
"He left notes. But Bianca took them."
Dante pressed his bandaged hand against his mouth.
For a moment, he looked nothing like the ruthless mafia boss whose name terrified South Jersey.
He looked like an older brother who had failed someone he loved.
Then Nicole stirred.
His eyes opened.
He saw Dante.
Immediately, he tried to sit up.
Dante rushed forward.
"Easy. You're safe."
Nicole reached for his brother's hand.
Then began signing.
I had learned enough basic sign language from online lessons to communicate with him.
Dante knew a few gestures, but not enough to follow.
Nicole signed rapidly.
His hands trembled.
I leaned closer.
"Slowly, sweetheart."
He tried again.
I translated.
"He says the man in the gray suit came to the basement."
Dante froze.
"Vittorio?"
Nicole nodded.
"He says Vittorio asked him where the old camera was."
Dante looked at me.
"What camera?"
Nicole signed again.
I swallowed.
"The camera his father gave him before the fire."
Dante's face changed.
"Our father gave Nicole a camera?"
Nicole nodded.
Then signed one more sentence.
I stared at his hands.
My blood ran cold.
"What?" Dante demanded.
I looked up.
"He says the camera recorded the man who started the fire."
Dante's eyes narrowed.
"And where is it?"
Nicole pointed toward the basement.
May you like
Then signed three numbers.
Five. Zero. Two.
Related Stories
