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Scarlet
“Ma’am,” Sebastian says from the other side of my closed bedroom door. “Mrs. Marino would like to see you in the study if you aren’t otherwise occupied.”
I almost laugh, wondering if staring endlessly at my phone counts asotherwise occupied. I haven’t received any updates about Mom or Dad since my man’s last text about fifteen minutes ago. “Uh, sure,” I say. “Where is the study?”
“I can take you there.”
I stand, brushing my clothes down. Then I fix my hair into a quick ponytail and open the door. Sebastian leads me through the luxurious apartment. We take two corners, and then he gestures to the end of a narrow hallway. “Just down there, miss.”
“Thank you,” I tell him.
Walking into the study, Alessia sits beside a tall, wide window. Sunlight bathes her. Leo sits in a wheelchair beside her, half slumped over, looking like he’s not reallyhere. He’s a tragic sight, and my heart aches for them all.
“Ah, Angela.” Alessia rises from her chair with her hands clasped together. “I’d like to introduce you to the man of the house… Leonardo.”
“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” I say, going with the curtsy again.
As opposed to Alessia, who seems completely oblivious to the fact I was her waitress last night—she’s shown no sign of recognition—I’m sure I see a glint in her husband’s eyes. He doesn’t move or make a noise, but there’s something in his eyes and his lip. It twitches almost like a smile.
Alessia leans down, putting her ear close to her husband’s mouth. Then she leans up, smiling. “He says it’s lovely to meet you, too.”
I almost call her out for this. I didn’t hearanynoise from him, but what would be the point in pretending her husband was speaking if he wasn’t capable? To keep up appearances? Why would she want to do that with me?
“We were wondering if you could sing for us,” Alessia says.
I take a step back instinctively, caught off guard. “Um…” When Alessia’s expression falters, and I see how badly she wants some brightness in her life, I quickly move forward. I force myself to smile. “Yes. I can. It’s why I’m here, after all.”
Alessia gives me a shrewd look. “Yes, and that’s theonlyreason you’re here, isn’t it, dear?”
I nod, then clasp my hands in front of me. More nerves are twisting through me than when I sang for my man. It takes me a few moments to get going. My voice falters. Alessia frowns. It’s the pity in her eyes that forces me to really start trying.
I sing a simple song about moving through a sea of fog, looking for my lifeline. The notes are long and low, and I hope the song evokes a certain type of lost sadness. At least, that’s what I was going for when I wrote it.
When I finish, I realize Alessia is staring at me with her mouth wide open. Then she turns to her husband, leans down, and brushes her hand across his cheek. “He’s crying,” she whispers. “Leo, my lion, you’re crying. Are you there, Leo? Did you like the song? Did you hear it?”
I don’t say anything, watching the exchange. It doesn’t make any sense. Why would she ask if he wasthereif she’d just spoken to him? She leaned down and put her ear to his mouth. Was that all for show? Why would she fake that? I don’t understand.
She seems to realize what she’s done. She stares at me like she hates me, but I think she hates the fact she just let something slip. She didn’t mean to.
“I think we’re done here,” Alessia says. “Thank you, Angela, and please remember whose home this is. Remember the respect we’re owed.”
I get the point. I didn’t see this, whatever it was. I shouldn’t tell her son. “Of course, Mrs. Marino,” I say.
She doesn’t correct me this time or say I should call herAlessia. When I turn away, I can feel her eyes on me. When I reach the door, she says, “You truly have a magical voice. An angel’s voice.”
I leave the room, wondering if I should tell her son. As I walk through the apartment, the situation niggles at me. If Leo had been speaking to her, she wouldn’t have reacted like that. That seems obvious to me, but—
My phone vibrates from my pocket, cutting through my thoughts. I quickly grab it.
I’m on my way home now, Scarlet.
What happened? Did you find Mom?
No, I haven’t found your mother yet.
But you found Dad?I ask.
I’ll explain when I see you in person.
