Chapter 10 — The Drawer I Left Closed

I took my hand off the table.

Julian’s eyes followed it.

For a moment, he seemed disappointed.

“You know what my father would have done,” I said.

“Yes.”

“That’s what you’re counting on.”

“I’m counting on you remembering who you are.”

I looked at the copies spread between us.

Lucia’s photograph. My son’s handwriting. The signature I had never put on that letter.

Then I looked at Maria.

She was waiting for me to make a decision she could not make for me.

I stepped away from the drawer.

“Sit down, Julian.”

He remained standing.

“This can still be settled privately.”

“How?”

“The papers come back. Maria receives whatever she needs. We put the rest behind us.”

Maria’s face changed.

“You want to pay me?”

“I want to make sure you’re provided for.”

“My husband spent his life wondering why his father didn’t want him.”

Julian looked toward me.

She moved into his line of sight.

“Answer me.”

“What answer do you want?”

“One that doesn’t treat him like an expense.”

Footsteps sounded in the hallway.

Small, uneven ones.

Maria turned.

Sophia stood in the doorway in her pajamas, clutching her rabbit. Behind her, Mrs. Donnelly hurried toward us.

“I’m sorry. She said she needed the bathroom, and then—”

“It’s all right,” I said.

Sophia looked around the room.

Then she looked at me.

“Grandpa?”

I went to the door and crouched.

“Why aren’t you in bed?”

“I heard you.”

Maria joined us.

Sophia touched the crease between my eyebrows.

“You’re doing the face.”

“I know.”

“Are you mad?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes moved toward Julian.

I gently turned her attention back to me.

“The grown-ups are talking about something difficult. Your mother will take you upstairs.”

She held out the rabbit.

“You can have him.”

“Won’t you need him?”

“You can give him back.”

I accepted it.

One ear had been repaired with thread a shade too dark.

Sophia watched me hold it.

Then she reached into her pajama pocket and produced the purple crayon.

“And this.”

Maria closed her eyes briefly.

I took the crayon.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t break it.”

“I’ll be careful.”

She kissed my cheek without warning.

Then Maria lifted her and carried her upstairs.

I remained crouched until they disappeared around the landing.

When I stood, Julian was watching the rabbit.

“You think this changes anything?”

I placed it on the chair beside mine.

“It changes what I do next.”

“She won’t always be three.”

“No.”

“She’ll grow up. She’ll learn.”

“I intend to be here when she does.”

Marco stayed beside the door.

I called Daniel and put the phone on speaker.

“Julian is here. He has admitted taking the box. He says it’s at his office.”

Daniel asked for the precise location.

Julian didn’t answer.

I waited.

Finally, he gave the room number, the cabinet, and the name of the employee who had a key.

“Maria will need to identify the contents,” Daniel said. “I’ll contact the investigators handling her report and arrange it.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Julian said.

“It’s already being done.”

I told Daniel what Julian had admitted about the letter and Miguel.

“Write down the conversation separately, while it’s fresh,” he said. “Each of you. Don’t work from one account.”

“We will.”

“And Anthony, I need the complete company records tomorrow.”

“You’ll get them.”

“Complete,” he repeated.

I looked at my signatures beneath the older authorizations.

“Yes.”

After the call, Julian sat.

At last.

“You understand what those files contain?”

“Some of it.”

“Not just my name.”

“I’ve seen mine.”

“You’ve lived well from these arrangements.”

“Yes.”

“You can’t hand over the parts that embarrass me and keep the parts that paid for this house.”

“I know.”

He searched my face.

I realized he had expected that fact to stop me.

For years, it would have.

I would have found a distinction, made an exception, postponed a decision until postponement became the decision.

I put my signed authorizations on top of the pile.

“Daniel gets those too.”

Julian looked older.

Not harmless. Never harmless.

But older.

“My father told you to separate us,” I said. “He didn’t tell you to keep doing it after he was dead.”

“I protected what he built.”

“You protected your place in it.”

He said nothing.

“Your access is revoked. Your offices will receive written notice. You don’t contact Maria or Sophia. If you have something to say about these records, you say it through your lawyer.”

“You’re dismissing me?”

“Yes.”

“After everything?”

“After everything.”

He stood slowly.

At the door, he turned.

“Your father would be ashamed.”

I looked at the purple crayon beside the papers.

“My father lied to me about my child.”

Julian’s mouth tightened.

“He doesn’t get to decide this.”

Marco opened the door.

Julian left.

There was no gunshot.

No broken glass.

I could hear his shoes in the hall, then the front door closing.

My hands started shaking after he was gone.

I sat down.

Marco waited until I could hold the pen.

Then we wrote our accounts separately.

Maria returned and wrote hers.

By midnight, Daniel had confirmed that the wooden box had been recovered intact. Maria would inspect it the following morning.

She went upstairs.

Marco remained.

“He’ll call Carbone,” he said.

“Probably already has.”

“Some men will leave.”

“Let them.”

“Others will want assurances.”

“They can have written contracts for legitimate work. Nothing else.”

He pulled out the chair opposite mine.

For once, he sat.

“And me?”

I looked at him.

“I’m still angry with you.”

“I know.”

“You decided what I was allowed to know. You had reasons. So did everyone else.”

His expression tightened.

“I wasn’t trying to control you.”

“I believe that. You still did.”

He nodded.

“No more tests,” I said.

“No more tests.”

He placed the recorder between us.

“There’s one message left.”

I pressed play.

Miguel’s voice sounded less steady in this one.

“Maria, this part is for you.”

I reached to stop it.

Marco touched my wrist.

“She said you could hear it.”

I let it continue.

“If you decide you don’t want any of this, don’t do it because you think you owe me. Take Sophia somewhere you can breathe. Marco will help.”

A pause.

“And if Anthony wants to be her grandfather, he needs to understand she already had a father.”

I looked at the hospital photograph.

“I don’t want to disappear because someone important arrives. Tell her about me. The stupid things too.”

His laugh caught in his throat.

“Especially the stupid things.”

The recording ended.

I sat quietly.

Then I picked up the rabbit.

“Will you take this upstairs?”

Marco accepted it.

The following afternoon, Carbone arrived with two other men.

They stood in my study while Daniel laid out the first documents terminating the arrangements we could end immediately.

“You sign that,” Carbone said, “and you lose people.”

“I’ve lost people before.”

“Not like this.”

“No.”

He pointed at the document.

“Your name won’t mean what it used to.”

I read the last page.

The figures were ugly.

The consequences would be worse.

From the garden came Sophia’s laugh. Maria had taken her outside to look for a ladybug.

I signed.