“Then it’s a warning,” Lucia folds her arms. “But who could send their symbol if they’re all dead?”
“Maybe someone is playing games.” Laying the raven feather on the bed, I remove the chess piece. It’s not the feather that worries me, it’s this chess piece, because I know it’s mine. The smooth polished body narrows into a crown etched with a cross at the top. The piece is made of golden rosewood and crafted by hand. I would know this piece anywhere.
Turning it over I see the initials V.C. carved in the bottom.
Vincenzo Capuano.
My father.
“This chess piece is from my father’s set,” I whisper.
“What?” Lucia takes the piece from my hand and turns it over. “Yes. I remember this piece. You used to play with him when you were little.”
I nod. “This was a unique set that Father had designed just for him. I haven’t seen it in ages. I remember it was at their house on a table by the window…” my voice trails off.
“That means someone had to take it from your mom’s house in order to send it to you.” Lucia’s eyes widen. “Then it is someone in your inner circle who is out to get you.”
My stomach twists. “Someone is sending a message.”
“But I don’t understand. The king piece must symbolize your father and the feather over it represents death. But your father is already dead. He died of a heart attack, he wasn’t murdered.”
“Maybe he was murdered and we missed something. I always thought his death was strange.”
“But why now Cipi, it’s been fifteen years. You’re the queen. Why didn’t they put the queen in there?”
“I don’t know, Luci.” A chill runs through me along with a million questions. “Only someone close to me that knew my father loved chess and had access to the board could do this.”
“Maybe Dominic is our only option,” Lucia grumbles.
Voices outside in the hall interrupt us. It’s Mama, Nonna, and Gigi. Quickly I shove the items back into the box and slam down the lid. “Quick! Hide it in your purse. I don’t need my family to worry anymore than they already are.” I shove the box into Lucia’s hands and she dumps it into her purse.
The door opens and my family walks in. Nonna is still complaining about the coffee. Their faces change from somber to delight when they catch sight of Lucia.
“Lucia! Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick,” Mama cries.
They hug and kiss her.
Resting my head against the pillows, frustration wells in me.
I don’t want to see Dominic Cartieri.
I don’t want to hear his voice.
I don’t want to remember the past and the passion that burned between us.
I don’t want to need him.
But I do.
The second I’m discharged from the hospital, I’m going to do something I swore I’d never do. I’m going to the devil’s office and ask for his help.
Because there are too many ghosts trying to claw their way out of the past, and if I don’t watch out I’ll be joining them.
Chapter four
Why a king and not a queen?
The symbolism gnaws at me.
