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She giggles, stands. “Touchy. I was just seeing what scent it was.”
“What do you want, Camilla? What are you even doing here in my house? At my mother’s memorial service? Why would you come to something like that?”
She shrugs one shoulder. “Mom. She thinks we need to show our faces, especially with my brother missing. Integrate. You know.” She rolls her eyes. “Oh, my condolences.” Not remotely bothered, she runs her fingers over the spines of the books on my bookshelves. “Where is Santos?” she asks, facing me again.
I hesitate too long because I don’t get to make up an answer before she speaks again.
“Did he disappear? He used to do that a lot when he lived with us. Had all these jobs to do.” She puts jobs in air quotes. “Can I borrow this one?” she asks, holding up a book she slips out of my bookshelf.
I cross the room and take it from her. “No. Get out.”
“That’s rude.”
“No, what’s rude is you coming into my room clearly to have a look around. Maybe take something.”
“I don’t need to steal from you.” She gives me a flat smile.
“I’m glad to hear it. Now get out.”
“I’m trying to be friendly here, Madelena. I mean, you’re married to a man with whom I’m very close.”
I laugh outright at that. “Close? He can’t stand you.”
She sulks. “That’s not very nice. And besides, I think it’s more that he’s probably a little afraid of me.”
“Why would he be afraid of you?”
“I know things.” She shrugs again.
“What things could you know that would scare a man like Santos Augustine?”
She studies me curiously, and I wonder what I just gave away. “Things about what he did.”
I force a grin, pull out my desk chair, and sit facing her. I prop my elbow on the desk, rest my chin in my hand and yawn to show her I’m bored. “You clearly want to deliver some message, so just go ahead and deliver it so you can go. I realize you may not understand this, but today is a hard day for me, and I’d really like tonotbe with you.”
“There you go hurting my feelings again.” She pushes her lip out, sulking. What is wrong with her? Santos called her a psychopath. I assumed he was exaggerating but I’m wondering now. “But I forgive you because I get it. I mean, you were five when your mom killed herself.” It takes all I have to keep my face neutral as her words hit their mark. “Now if it were my mom, I can tell you one thing, I wouldn’t be as sad as you if she jumped out of a lighthouse,” she says, her words so ugly I almost can’t believe I heard correctly.
“Jesus.” I rub the back of my neck, feeling exhausted and wanting badly to lie down.
“Anyhow, listen, you seem sweet and innocent, Madelena. You really do. Santos doesn’t deserve you.”
“Good to hear. Is that it?”
She comes to sit on the edge of the bed again. She’s just a few feet from me. Facing me as she is, I study her face as she studies mine and for a moment the bitch mask slips, and I see a line form between her eyebrows. See how dark her eyes grow. She reaches out a hand to touch my knee.
I tug it away and she looks hurt once more. It’s an act, and she’s very good. I open my mouth to tell her to go for the last time, but she speaks first.
“I used to watch him when he’d get home from the errands Daddy had him run. Hisjobs.”
I bite my lip and wait for more. It’s what she wants, I know, but I can’t help myself.
“He was a wreck afterwards. I mean, not always. Daddy was… Let’s just say he was all about an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, but like multiplied by a million gazillion. He never forgot anything. Never forgave anything. It’s how he got to the top, right? He was ruthless. Even Thiago was afraid of him. Did you know that?”
I shake my head.
“Liam too, but he’d never admit it. Not me, though. Daddy loved me the best. Anyhow, back to your husband.” She emphasizes that part. “Some of the jobs he’d do, the people were bad, you know? They deserved what they got. But some of them had wives and kids and families, and I know he hated that part so much.”
“What do you mean?”
