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I glance over my shoulder as I walk away.
Caterina is smiling.
The day flows by, one task into another. Our return to New York is scheduled for the following afternoon, and after dinner, we are gathered in the more intimate family room that has, of all things, a television and speakers in it.
Gia turns it on. “Luna,” she says with a grin. “Do you know how to dance?”
Luna shrieks with joy. “Put on Molly Breeze!”
I frown and look at Caterina. “What is this?”
“A popular singer in the US,” she smiles. Music blares from the speakers and Caterina, Gia, and Luna get up. They begin to dance, the movements haphazard and wild.
I feel motion, and still as Sal stands next to me. “Drink?”
I take the glass of bourbon he offers. “Thank you.”
We watch them for a moment, until Sal glances at me. “Cat told me about the papers.”
Cat.I had forgotten the nickname, which she told me long ago she prefers. “What did she say?” I respond.
The girls are still dancing to the insane song, tossing their hair and shouting at the top of their lungs.
“She told me you were willing to let her and Luna go.”
“Did you look at them?”
He nods. “I did. They’re airtight. You put in a provision that Caterina is in charge of any and all visitation, and you gave up all responsibility to your child.”
“I did.”
“Why?
I sigh, watching the chaos unfold in front of me. “I spent many years haunting her,” I finally say. “I did not know about Luna. Truly, you did an excellent job hiding her.”
“Thank you,” he mutters.
I nod. “I was the ghost in Caterina’s past. I haunted her, frightened her. I do not want her to feel that way about me. Not now, not then. Not ever.”
“You don’t want to acknowledge Luna as your child?”
I shoot him a sideways glance. “Caterina said the same thing.”
“She is my sister,” Sal says in a dark tone.
I nod. “Yes. I would be willing to do that, if it proved to Caterina that I didn’t wish to use Luna against her, take her away. To show her that she is in control of her and Luna’s path.”
“But you’re not willing to lose them, are you?”
The words aren’t cold, necessarily. They’re not cruel, and they’re certainly not accusatory.
They’re stating a fact.
I turn to look at Sal. “No, Salvatore. I have no intention of letting your sister and her child walk out of my life.”
He bristles. “You can’t give her the illusion of power and take it away from her.”
“You misunderstand me. I have no intention of it, because I intend to earn their love.
