Chapter 17
Zaira
“So Mia tells me you were away visiting a client?” I ask Vince. We’re sitting outside on the pool deck. This place has become my favorite place on the compound. I love the atmosphere, and with the warmth of the sun and the light breeze, I find all I want to do is to be outside.
“Yes, I had to go to Pennsylvania. A friend of Michael’s was in trouble, and he asked me to help out,” he replies.
“Is he guilty?” I ask curiously.
“Zaira, you may not remember who you are, but you know a lawyer can’t talk about a case. Don’t try to coax it out of me either. You’ve tried before, and it never works,” he says, and it warms my heart to know I am behaving normal in his eyes. Perhaps more of my memory is coming back than I thought.
“So, you and Mia hung out yesterday?” he asks.
“Yes, and we had so much fun. I do hope she will visit more often. You know she’s welcome here anytime. Even Michael told her that.”
“I know,” he says with a nod. “Have any memories come back?”
“Not really, just sorta visions.”
“Like what?”
I really don’t want to go into detail with Vince—not like I did with Michael—so I just say, “They were vague. A proposal and an argument. I didn’t recognize anyone in the visions except myself.”
“So nothing tangible?”
“Not really, except I have good feelings about Mia and Michael.”
He laughs. “Feelings?”
“I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like I’ve known them all my life, but I don’t know them.”
“You have known them all your life,” he says. “But you don’t have those feelings with me?”
“Not exactly. I feel like you are hiding something from me. You’ve done something you think will make me lose some respect for you,” I say. If I wasn’t watching him so closely, I would have missed him flinch when I mentioned about him doing something bad. I knew it. Now, I wonder if he will tell me what it is.
When he doesn’t respond, I decide to let him stew a bit, and I change the subject. “So Michael and I had a very interesting conversation last night.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asks.
“He told me about our families. He told me we were organized crime and that we have a lot of enemies.”
“Did he now?” Vince asks.
“Yes, he did. He also told me Father had a lot of enemies and that many people wanted him dead.” Vince doesn’t say anything, so I continue. “He said someone murdered both of our parents.” Vince turns white, but I don’t give him time to respond. “He said Mom was murdered five years ago, and he has a pretty good idea who did it.”
“And our father?” he asks cautiously.
“He said Father was murdered the night I hit my head and that he knows who did it,” I say.
“Did he tell you who?”
“No, he won’t tell me. He said there were things he would not be able to tell me for various reasons, and this was one of them.”
“He’s right,” he says, relieved. “There are things, for your own protection, you must never know.”
“Yeah, that’s what he said.” I look at him curiously, hoping he will give me more, but when he says nothing, I add, “But he said he would avenge their deaths. He promised.”
Vince turns toward me and says angrily, “What?”
