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“Your family hid it well, Sia. But I’m really fucking good at what I do.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “You can’t know. Youcan’tknow.”
“The date of your father’s death was the date Lucy Snow went missing.”
Her head continues to move back and forth, denying me, but the tears in her eyes tell another story.
“You didn’t care for your father.”
“He was the devil.”
“So Lucy was the importance of that date.”
Her hands drop from my chest, and she rubs her palms up and down her pants. “Diego, please stop.”
“I looked for her. She just disappeared.”
Sia looks ready to break, but I need her to. I need to knoweverythingbefore letting my heart get tangled up in whatever is growing between us.
“I searched, and I searched, and then I remembered something.”
Her eyes close.
“Your mother.”
They open.
“No one mentions her. She attended our wedding for the ceremony and didn’t so much as shed a tear or crack a smile.”
Nothing, not even a blink.
“Imagine my shock when I looked into her and discovered that apart from being a widow, she’s also a resident of a psychiatric ward close to the state border.”
Shock overtakes my wife, and without conscious thought, she steps closer to me once again. We’re almost touching.
“I have to give it to the Bianchis… you’re smart. Hiding her in plain sight.”
“Hiding…who?”
“How could your mom be a psych patient but move freely around the city? She uses her credit cards. She pays all her utilities on time. How, Sia? How does a patient in a psychiatric clinic who is taking twelve different kinds of medication that keeps a person virtually comatose do all that?”
She shakes her head. “No. My mother has never been admitted into any hospital.”
“Your mother, no. But Giuliana Bianchi has.”
“You’re making no sense,” she snaps.
“And you continue to lie!” I bellow.
“I’m not lying!” she yells back.
“Why has Lucy Snow been sitting in a psychiatric ward for the past eighteen years with your mother’s identity? You’re not protecting Grace’s feelings, Sia. What does Lucy and Grace Snow have on your family, oryouspecifically?”
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
ALESSIA
My hand finds my throat, and I stumble backward. “Why are you saying this? Lucy died. Shedied.”
