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Shock ran across her mother's face as they gazed at each other.There were other emotions, too, but she couldn't get caught up in them.
"Isabella," her mother finally said."I was not expecting to see you."
"Can we come in?"
At her question, her mother's gaze moved to Nick, then back to her."Are you going to introduce me to your friend?"
"This is Nick Caruso, Anna's grandson."She didn’t know why she felt compelled to label him in a way that didn't make it seem like he was her friend, but it was too late to take it back.
Nick shot her a sharp look and then turned to her mother."It's nice to meet you, Sylvie.I've heard a lot about you."
"I've heard a few things about you as well.What are you both doing here?Is something wrong?Is my mother all right?"She paused, her gaze narrowing."What happened to your face, Isabella?"
"It's nothing.I'm fine."
"It doesn't look like nothing."
"Why don't we talk inside?"Nick suggested.
Sylvie's lips tightened."Come in."She stepped back and waved them into the apartment.
Isabella's first impression of her mother's living space was of bright colors, warm sunlight, and greenery everywhere, not only indoor plants, but a beautiful garden patio accessed by French doors in the small living room.There was art on the walls, a mix of eclectic paintings, and at least six different mirrors with mosaic inlays and other decorative notes.
Seeing her mother's space now reminded her of the first apartment she could remember living in with her mom.They hadn't had a yard, but her mother had made a little garden on the balcony with both real and fake plants that could survive the brutal cold of a Chicago winter, making her feel like they were surrounded by plants even though they were in the middle of a city.
"What's going on?"her mother asked as they stood in the living room."Do you want to sit down?Do you want something to drink?What's happening?Is something wrong with your grandmother?"
"Grandma is fine," she said, instinctively wanting to ease the worry in her mother's eyes.
"Okay, good."Her mother let out a breath of relief.
"But there was a robbery at the museum where she and Anna volunteer," she continued."They weren't hurt, but the paintings they donated to an exhibition were stolen—one by Tomas and one by Lucinda."
"Are you serious?I can't believe Lucinda's painting is gone, although, to be honest, I thought I lost it a long time ago."
"Why would you think that?"
"After I moved to Chicago for school, I went looking for it and couldn't find it.I thought I might have accidentally thrown it away with my boxes.But then your grandmother told me last week that she'd found it and put it in a show at her museum and hoped I didn't mind.Which I didn't.But—it was stolen?I don't understand.Why didn't my mother tell me?"
"She didn't want to worry you while you were getting settled into your new life."
"But she told you."
"Yes.And I jumped on a plane."
"Always eager to help your grandmother."
There was an edge to her mom's voice that she could not tolerate."Why wouldn't I be?She saved me from foster care.And she saved you, too, more than once."
"You're right.Why are you both here now?"
"Well, a couple of reasons."She tried to sound focused and businesslike."Grandma and Anna went to the States.We got them out of Italy just in time.There was a break-in at their house after they left, and since then, well, it appears that someone may be trying to stop me and Nick from asking questions."
"Your face," her mother said again."What exactly happened?"
"Someone ran our car off the road.We were in an accident, but we're okay."
Her mother turned to Nick."Is she okay?"
