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“Darling,” she says, throwing her arms wide. “I just heard the news.”
She wraps me in a devastatingly tight hug and squeezes. I grunt in response and hug her back—and to my genuine shock, I feel tears burst into my eyes. I don’t know why I’m crying—maybe because I miss Papa, or maybe because I miss my innocence, but all of that was a pretty lie, nothing more than a lovely illusion wrapped around my comfortable life, and I don’t want to stay in a world that isn’t built from fact. I don’t want the falsehoods, the comforting half-truths. I blink away my tears but a few escape and roll down my cheeks, and when Elise pulls back to look at me, she’s crying too.
“It’s strange how we mourn for the bastards when they’re dead,” she murmurs softly. “Even if they don’t deserve it.” She touches my cheek, wipes away a tear, and looks over at Nico. “I see you brought your husband.”
“He needs to hear what I have to ask you.”
Elise nods to herself as if she expected it. “Come on then. Let’s go sit by the pool and chat over drinks, but you have to promise not to fall in this time. I simply won’t dive in to save you, and his suit looks expensive. Let’s not ruin anything, shall we?”
“That’s a deal,” I say, smiling a little. Nico looks confused, but I don’t bother filling him in.
Elise leads me through the house and Nico follows. I haven’t been to the Tuscan villa in a long time, not since I was a little girl. The Bruno Famiglia has deep roots to Italy and there are a few cousins that run our business all across the country, from Tuscany in the north to Sicily down south. It’s quite an enterprise, though not as lucrative as our American dealings.
The back yard is broken into two tiers. The top half is a long patio with tables, chairs, and awnings casting shade across the clean-swept tile. An outdoor oven plus multiple grills covers one side, and steps lead down to the second tier and a crystalline-blue pool at the other end. Elise chats about the renovations she’s done over the years as she walks, gesturing here and there at small details, at the stones and the paintings, and I’m only half listening as my eyes skim across the lovely landscape, and finally, they land on Nico.
He seems drawn and anxious, and I can’t blame him.
I’m sure he’s wondering if I’m going to turn him in, but I haven’t decided.
Elise waves for the older woman—stout, dark-skinned, simple brown dress, graying hair, easy smile on her face—and asks her to bring wine. The woman disappears as Elise settles down on a lounge chair.
I take the one beside her and Nico remains standing with his back against the retaining wall. The pool glitters and rolls in its tile enclosure, the mosaic at the bottom refracting and twisting as the light bends through the water.
“How’d it happen?” Elise asks, stretching out her legs with a sigh. The staff woman returns with a bottle and three small glasses. She pours them, smiles at me, and disappears.
“Strangled,” I say and accept a glass from Elise.
I pass one over to Nico and he takes it with some reluctance.
Elise raises hers in the air. “To violent men and their violent ends.”
“I can cheer to that,” I say, touch her glass with mine, and throw back the entire contents.
Elise laughs, gives me a refill, and throws Nico a sly look. “I have the sense you and your wife aren’t getting along at the moment. You’re usually more talkative.”
“I’m an observer at the moment.” He shrugs slightly as if that explains anything.
“Don’t mind him. He’s busy wondering if I’m going to get him killed.” I look at my nails casually and try not to give Elise a sly smile.
Elise’s eyebrows raise. “Interesting. I must’ve missed a lot then.”
“Before we get to that, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest. It’s important.”
“Darling, I’ll tell you whatever you want, especially now that your father’s gone.” She laughs bitterly and sips her wine. “He always was the reason I kept my mouth shut.”
“That was your keeping your mouth shut?” Nico asks with a wry smile.
“Darling, I know more than you realize.” She looks at me and touches my arm. “Ask your question.”
“Who killed my mother?”
Nico stiffens at my words and I do my best to ignore his imploring gaze. Elise only smiles and tilts her head, squinting through the sunlight, looking radiant as her hair blows in the comfortable breeze.
“You know already, don’t you? Is that what you’re here for? You want me to confirm the truth.”
“I have a memory.” I close my eyes and it’s so vivid it hurts, like staring at hills made of glass under a bright light. “I was a little girl when it happened. Back then I used to go to the library all the time because I didn’t have many friends and my brothers were a little rough on me. It was my safe space and Papa always let me read as many books as I wanted, so I’d go there and hide when Gavino was being a little asshole or something.
