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Flinching from the hostility, Vincent took a few quick steps back. “You can’t let him do it.”
“I don’t plan to.” Corrado stealthily moved with him, not missing a beat.
A loud voice echoed through the cathedral then, stalling them both. Father Alberto stepped out of his office, scowling. Corrado backed up, putting some space between him and Vincent, as the priest swiftly approached. “Gentlemen, I’m not a man to judge, and I’ve never condemned you for your life choices, but there comes a point where enough is enough! You don’t bring that into the house of the Lord. This is a place of worship, of love, of acceptance. We’re always open, but only to those who check their sinning at the door.”
“You’re right.” Corrado shoved his hands back into his pockets. “This isn’t the time or the place for this.”
“And what, exactly, are you two squabbling over?” the priest asked. “You’re family!”
“It was a misunderstanding,” Vincent said. “That’s all.”
“Right, a misunderstanding,” Corrado agreed, clearing his throat. “If you’ll excuse me, I should be going. I have business to handle later tonight.”
Father Alberto raised his eyebrows at him. “I hope not too late. I expect to see you planted in one of these pews tomorrow morning.”
“I wouldn’t miss your service for anything, Father,” Corrado said, looking from the priest to Vincent. “It’ll all be finished before the sun comes up.”
He turned, casually strolling toward the exit as if he had not a care in the world. Vincent and Father Alberto both watched, remaining silent until Corrado disappeared outside into the night. Vincent sighed, running his hands down his face in exasperation. Not good. Not good at all.
“Oh, Vincenzo, what have you gotten yourself into?”
“A situation with no way out,” he said quietly.
“I don’t believe that,” Father Alberto said. “There’s always a way out.”
“Alive?”
Father Alberto was quiet, staring at the door Corrado had disappeared out of as he pondered Vincent’s question.
“That’s what I thought,” Vincent muttered when the priest supplied no response. “I guess there are worse things to be than dead.”
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest,” Father Alberto said, quoting Matthew 11:28. “As true as that may be, I don’t like you sounding so defeated. You should never give up.”
“I’m not giving up, Father. I’m giving in. I’ve fought against the current for a long time, but in the end I got swept downstream anyway. And I can’t keep swimming. I can’t. I’m too damn tired to do it anymore.”
“So, what, you just let yourself drown?” Father Alberto asked with disbelief.
“No,” Vincent said. “I wait for someone to throw me a lifeline, and then I drift away.”
“And what if no one does? Certain things are unforgiveable. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”
“I have faith I won’t have to.”
Father Alberto shook his head. “You look terrible, Vincenzo. Come, I have an extra cot in the back for you to get some sleep.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Then at least eat something and freshen up.”
He wanted to refuse, but the thought of food and a shower was too tempting to resist. Following Father Alberto to the back, he scarfed down two sandwiches and a bag of chips as the man sat across from him, studying him with his concerned eyes. “Is there a reason you came here tonight?”
“Advice,” he said. “My father used to have this saying: chi tace acconsente. I just wondered what you thought about it.”
Chi tace acconsente. Silence gives consent. Antonio DeMarco believed if you wanted something, if you believed in something, it was your responsibility to fight for it. If you remained silent, if you just stood back and did nothing, then you had no one to blame but yourself when nothing happened.
“I believe your father was a wise man,” Father Alberto said. “I may not have agreed with his choices, but I always admired his beliefs when it came to family and responsibility. And it’s true—if you stand for nothing, you’ll fall for anything.”
Vincent’s brow furrowed. “Is that scripture?”
