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“Cece, where are you going with this?” Papa interjects. “Does it matter why he was here? It’s not as if he hasn’t been here thousands of times before. He doesn’t need an invitation. Until your recent falling out you three were always as thick as thieves. What was it you always called yourselves…” He stops to think, trying to dredge us our ‘three amicis’ moniker but I’m not going to remind him.
I look away from my father. “It wasn’t just a ‘falling out’, Papa.” I say with a scowl. “We’re not children anymore.”
“Well, you’re acting like you still are. Adults forgive and move on. Raphael will be as worried about Micah as we all are. And Micah misses him. He doesn’t understand why he’s suddenly disappeared from his life. After all this is over, maybe you should think about patching up your friendship.”
I look over at Connie. She knows exactly what Raphael tried to do to me at that hotel on my birthday. I think it’s time Papa knew too. I know she can tell what I’m thinking, and she gives me a tiny nod of encouragement.
I sit up straighter fiddling with the hem of my skirt. “Papa, there’s something you should know about Raphael,” I say.
My father looks at me expectantly and I know that what I’m about to tell him is going to break his heart. But I can’t let him carry on believing in someone who doesn’t deserve his belief or respect, and I can’t let him carry on holding out hope that Raphael and I may end up together one day.
“You remember he took me out for my birthday…” I huff out a breath, unsure how to continue, then decide to just rip the band-aid off and say it. “That night he drugged me and took me to a hotel room. He tied me up and he was going to rape me, but Michael and one of his men saved me before it could happen. That’s why Raphael has a broken nose.” I look at Papa, leaning forwards and clasping my hands together. “Michael saved me from danger again, just like he did in Naples.”
Papa’s face is slack as he gapes at me. I can’t read his expression and a sliver of regret snakes up my spine. What if he doesn’t believe me? What if he disowns me, casts me out as a liar, a troublemaker, a woman happy to accuse her childhood male friend of attempted rape? Connie and I were brought up to be respectful towards all men, to be good daughters. What if Papa thinks I’m more trouble than I’m worth after everything that’s happened in the past five years after all the worry I’ve caused him? And he’s had to deal with it all alone, on top of grieving for Mama. I wish more than anything she was here right now.
“It’s true, Papa,” adds Connie in a small voice. I look at her and she mouths ‘I love you’.
He rises from his chair and turns toward the fireplace. Connie and I exchange a loaded glance and I take a deep breath and sit up straight again. My sister believes I’ve done the right thing, and I need to believe that too. I’d rather tell the truth than live a lie.
“Papa?” I chance again, and as I look at him, I realize his shoulders are shaking. I step towards him and gently place a hand on his back, feeling tremors beneath my palm. He’s crying, I realize.
“Oh, Papa,” I say as he turns and envelopes me, his familiar smell and stature providing immediate relief and comfort. He strokes my hair like he did when I was a little girl.
“My Cecelia, mia bella figlia,” he repeats as he holds me. “You should have told me.”
He releases me and sits down in his chair again, wiping his tears away with his fingers. I bring the other fireside chair closer and sit next to him, taking one of his hands in mine.
“I wanted to tell you, but I was scared,” I admit.
“What of?”
“That you wouldn’t believe me. Like you didn’t believe me when I told you Michael hadn’t held me hostage after my kidnapping. I now know it was a mob boss called Anthony Ricci who took me on my birthday. Michael found me in his cellar and then he and his staff nursed me back to health at his home. We fell in love, Papa.” I look down and bite my lip, relieved to finally be able to say these things, yet I understand how delicate this topic still is for Papa.
He hooks his finger under my chin and brings my face up to his.
“Cecelia, I am a stubborn old man who thought he knew better, and for that I am sorry. I love you—and Connie and Micah—with all my heart and if I’ve ever done anything to make you doubt that I am so sorry. I believe you, about it all. Do you forgive me?”
I clasp his wrist as we lock shining eyes. “I forgive you.”
Connie rises from her blanket cocoon and joins us. We sit together, holding hands, united, all secrets now shared. All we need now is Michael and Micah home safely.
“Those questions you were asking about Raphael earlier, Cece, about why he was here this afternoon, what were you getting at?” Papa asks after a few moments.
I pout, ordering my thoughts. “I just think it’s strange that he turned up when he did, right before the ransom demand was delivered. And I’m sure I heard him try to persuade Michael not to involve the police, telling him it was a bad idea, that the ransom money was a fair swap for Micah.”
Papa asks his next question with a dejected look. “Do you think Raphael is involved in Micah’s kidnapping somehow?”
I stare at the shellshocked faces of my father and my sister as I question if I really do. Has Raphael sunk to even lower depths than attempted rape?
“Yes,” I confirm sadly. “I do.”
“What time is it now?” asks Papa.
I check my phone. “Quarter to midnight.”
“I think it’s time to call the police,” he says.
Twenty-One
