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“She’s still traumatized. And now keeping her alive requires answers.”
Adriana shifted forward slightly. Zeno’s eyes met hers in the mirror. Her face changed enough for me to notice. I turned in my seat.
“Adriana.”
“I don’t know what he meant.”
“What did he give you?”
Her fingers rose to the scarf around her neck. For a moment, she looked very young, exhausted from carrying pieces of a truth that didn’t make sense to her.
Adriana’s hand remained at her throat. My attention settled on it. On the scarf. On the faint outline beneath the fabric. The rosary. She had carried it since arriving at the church. Her father’s rosary.
Zeno saw my expression. His eyes moved from me to Adriana in the mirror. Neither of us spoke. Adriana’s hand closed around the beads beneath her scarf.
“It was his,” she whispered.
The wrought-iron gates of the estate appeared ahead. They opened before the convoy slowed. Armed men stood on either side, rain darkening their jackets. Beyond them, the long drive curved between cypress trees toward the villa.
Zeno entered first. The gates closed behind the final vehicle. Only then did something in my chest loosen. Not relief. There would be no relief until the Coccico cartel no longer existed and every man connected to them had forgotten Adriana’s name.
The car stopped near the main doors. Men emerged from the other vehicles before the engine had gone silent. The estate came alive around us. Orders were given. Doors opened. Guards spread across the courtyard and vanished into the surrounding darkness.
I looked at my oldest friend as he sat in the car, unmoving. His hands remained on the wheel. The house glowed beyond the windscreen; every window lit against the night. A home. But it wasn’t mine.
Zeno looked at me.
“You understand what happens now.”
“I do.”
“No. I don’t think you do, Demi.” His voice was low. “You brought the past to my gate. By morning, your family will know you’re alive.”
My stomach hardened. “That’s not necessary.”
“It’s no longer your decision.”
“Zeno.”
“You disappeared once. I helped you remain gone.” His expression gave nothing away now. “I won’t do it again, Demi. No matter the cost.”
Behind me, Adriana sat quietly. She had heard enough to understand that the danger waiting inside the estate did not belong solely to her.
I looked back at Zeno as he opened his door.
“You,” he declared, “are going to discover that resurrection is rarely as merciful as people imagine.” He stepped out into the rain.
Of all the sins waiting for me beyond those doors, violence was not the one I feared most. Violence was familiar. It had rules. It obeyed the hand that released it.
The greater danger was that once I stepped into that house, I would no longer be able to pretend Father Demitri Marco had replaced the man I had been. The collar had hidden him. Distance had starved him. Prayer had kept him quiet. But the monster had never died. And now everyone I had abandoned was about to watch him come home.
13
ADRIANA
Isank further into the leather seat and watched the gates close behind us in the rear window.
The heavy clang reached us even through the glass. Final. Protective.
