Chapter 13
Victoria wrote to Maria.
Not me.
Interesting.
She asked whether Noah still had nightmares.
Maria did not answer until she asked me.
I told her to ask Noah.
She laughed.
“He’s three.”
“Then ask a three-year-old question.”
So she did.
“Do you want Victoria to know you’re okay?”
Noah thought.
“No.”
That was the answer.
No message.
No punishment.
Boundary.
Victoria later asked me directly.
I told her he did not want contact.
She cried.
I did not change it.
“I love him.”
“I believe you.”
“Then why won’t you help him forgive me?”
“Because forgiveness is not a treatment plan.”
Silence.
She hated that.
Good.
Marcus was harder.
He did not apologize.
For months.
Instead he complained through relatives that I had become weak.
Old capos repeated it.
I let them.
Then one evening he requested a meeting.
No title.
No conditions.
He came alone.
“I was wrong.”
I waited.
He frowned.
“That’s it?”
“No.”
He sighed.
“You really learned from Maria.”
Maybe.
“Specific.”
He looked irritated.
Then honest.
“I liked people needing me to reach you.”
Better.
“I told myself I protected you from noise.”
Better.
“I started deciding what counted as noise.”
There.
He looked down.
“Then Isabella noticed.”
My chest tightened.
“What did you think of her?”
Marcus almost smiled.
“She was exhausting.”
That sounded like Isabella.
Then his face changed.
“She was also right.”
Silence.
“She told me once that if I became the only bridge to you, eventually I’d start charging tolls.”
I laughed softly.
She would say that.
Marcus continued.
“I thought she was being dramatic.”
“So did I.”
We sat with that.
Two men realizing the dead woman had warned both of us and neither listened enough.
“What do you want?”
“Nothing.”
I stared.
May you like
Good.
Maybe the first useful answer he had given me in years.
