Chapter 8
My father knew.
That fact sat between us heavier than any weapon.
“When?”
“Before Ella was born.”
I stared.
“He knew she was mine?”
“Yes.”
“And did nothing?”
Lydia tilted her head.
“He did something.”
Of course.
“What?”
“He told Vincent to solve it.”
Claire went pale.
I looked toward her.
Then back at Lydia.
My father had been sick.
Weak.
Still boss enough that one sentence became someone else’s life.
“What exactly did he say?”
Lydia smiled faintly.
“Keep Dominic focused.”
That could mean anything.
Which made it useful.
Vincent interpreted it as removing Claire.
Or wanted to.
Lydia encouraged him.
The elders supported it.
My father benefited from not asking how.
Same pattern again.
Convenient ignorance.
I felt sick.
Claire whispered:
“So he knew.”
I looked at her.
“Yes.”
No defense.
No “maybe.”
She deserved clarity.
Lydia watched us.
“You see? This is why he made the decision.”
I turned.
“What?”
“Look at you.”
She gestured toward Claire.
“Already willing to tear apart your family over one woman.”
Claire flinched.
Ella stood up.
“She’s Mommy.”
Lydia looked at her.
“And you must be Ella.”
My daughter frowned.
“You said you don’t know me.”
Silence.
Children.
Again.
Lydia realized it.
Too late.
Ella looked at me.
“She knows my name.”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
My voice turned cold.
“She does.”
Lydia sighed.
“Fine.”
No apology.
Just irritation at being caught.
I leaned forward.
“How long have you known about Ella?”
“Since birth.”
“How long about Sophie?”
“Three months.”
“Did you order Janice to take her?”
“I asked for proof.”
“You took my daughter.”
“She was returned.”
That sentence changed the temperature in the room.
Returned.
Like property.
Claire stood.
“No.”
Her voice shook.
Lydia looked at her.
Claire continued.
“You don’t get to say that like six hours were nothing.”
“She was unharmed.”
“You took a baby from her mother.”
Lydia rolled her eyes.
“And returned her unharmed.”
Again.
Survival used as proof there was no abuse.
I had heard enough versions of that in my world to recognize the disease.
I stood.
“Who else knew?”
Lydia stared.
“Names.”
She gave me three.
Two capos.
One family physician.
All alive.
All close.
All men who had looked me in the face for years.
I understood then.
The deepest betrayal was not that people hid Claire.
It was that everyone involved had continued living near me as if nothing happened.
They did not fear discovery because they believed I would understand.
May you like
That was the insult.
They thought, once I knew, I would agree with them.
