Page 85 of Bene

Cara laughed, winking Vanna’s way as she asked, “When am I not?”

“Never, of course.”

Marcus gave Vanna a smile and nod before he headed down the hall. Cara waited just long enough for him to disappear from the corridor before she turned to face Vanna, and the portrait behind her. Well, she stared more at the portrait than she did at Vanna, but that was okay, too. It allowed her to admire the beauty of Bene’s mother, but also the almost regal aura around her. She’d always been able to sense those things about people, but it was so much stronger in this home with these people.

“It is, right?” Cara asked.

“Pardon?”

Cara’s gaze flicked to hers. “Vanna, sweetheart.”

“Yes. Vanna Falco.”

If the last name rang a bell to the woman, she didn’t say. Then again, her attention was back on the painting on the wall. Vanna turned to stare at it, too. It really was a perfect representation of the woman, and her sons. Realistic in more ways than she could explain with careful brushstrokes that brought the people in the portrait alive.

“I’m always worried people might think this corridor is a bit pretentious, considering …”

Vanna shook her head. “I thought it was … well, a beautiful tribute to a legacy.”

“The legacy of a name, or a bloodline?”

“A family, actually,” Vanna murmured, “I only saw a family.”

And she did.

Standing in this corridor as Marcus explained portrait after portrait, and each Guzzi in every single frame, she heard the pride in his voice, and the love he held for his family. Ones no longer with them, and those still on earth.

It made this night, and the choices she would have to make after it, harder. Not that she would tell Cara Guzzi that, however.

“I’m glad to see you came,” Cara said.

“Why is that?”

Cara shrugged, smiling softly again. “Bene gives me a lot of things to worry about … I would like it if one thing in his life didn’t, that’s all.”

Something like her.

Vanna met the woman’s stare—they had a conversation earlier, during the dinner. And a short one after before Bene got called away by Christopher to help with something upstairs while they had time, and an extra pair of hands on deck. However, their chats had been short, and not very deep. Not that this one was anything amazing, either, but it felt different.

Things unsaid clung to the air.

Vanna was fine with that.

“You seem familiar to me,” Cara said.

She stilled next to the woman. “Do I?”

“Somehow. It’s your face, I think. As if I’ve seen it before.”

Vanna cleared her throat. “I can’t say we’ve ever—”

“Cara, one of the shelter’s managers is getting ready to leave, and I know you like to see them out, mia bella.”

At the end of the corridor, Gian Guzzi darkened the entrance and stared down the way at his wife with fondness. Clear love. Like Cara with her son earlier. And with her other sons throughout the rest of the evening.

The Guzzis loved.

All of them.