Page 16 of Shattered

“Your restaurants were a good investment.”

“They were a strategic investment.” He said it with a slight smile. “There’s a difference. One makes business sense. The other makes the kind of sense that only matters to one person.”

I didn’t confirm or deny. Didn’t need to. Hector had figured it out when I’d invested in his expansion without the usual due diligence, because I’d heard Delia casually raving about how good the food was but she had to drive two hours to the nearest restaurant chain.

“She’s going through something,” I said finally. “Now’s not the time.”

“Now’s never the time. That’s the thing about complicated.” He finished his champagne. “But for what it’s worth, spending money on restaurants she loves is probably the most emotionally intelligent thing you’ve done.”

“You’re just saying this because you’re benefiting.” I said. Hector had always been smooth when convincing others to make a deal.

“Well, I’m not the only one benefiting.” His mouth curved, knowing and unbothered.

We said our farewells after a round of drink and I barely made it to the car before my phone rang. Daniel’s name on the screen.

I answered immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“How do you know something’s wrong?”

“You never call this late unless it’s an emergency.”

He was quiet for a moment. I could hear exhaustion in the silence. “Delia fractured her ankle days ago.”

My hand tightened on the phone. “How?”

“She was dancing. Pushed too hard and it snapped.” He exhaled slowly. “She only told me now. Apparently she’s on crutches for two weeks minimum.”

“Is she—” I stopped, unsure what I was even asking. “How is she?”

“Physically? She’ll heal. Everything else?” Another pause. “I don’t know, Axel. She’s not talking to me. She says she’s fine but she’s clearly not fine and I can’t get through to her.”

Through the window, Manhattan blurred past in streaks of light. “What do you need?”

“I can’t be there until this weekend. But can you check on her? Tomorrow, maybe? I know it’s asking a lot?—”

“I’ll go.”

“Just—” Daniel’s voice dropped. “Mom had another bad episode today. Maria’s there helping, we’ve got the best doctors but it’s getting worse. And I’ve got surgery scheduled all week.”

I understood what he wasn’t saying. That he was drowning. That their mother was disappearing and their father was gone and Delia was falling apart and he was trying to hold everything together by himself.

“I’ll check on her,” I said. “Don’t worry.”

After we hung up, Mark glanced at me from the driver’s seat. “Family emergency?”

“Something like that.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Shocking.” He rolled his eyes.

The next morning, I drove to Brooklyn with coffee from the place near my office and pastries I’d picked up because showing up empty-handed felt wrong.

I knocked. Waited. Knocked again.

Finally the door opened.