Chapter 16
Dominic waited seven months before contacting Nico.
Not seven days.
That mattered.
The envelope arrived through an attorney.
No request for a meeting.
No request for his old office.
No reference to thirty-one years of loyalty.
Only Nico’s name.
Nico left it unopened for six days.
That surprised Sienna.
She noticed it on the library desk during one of her visits.
“You’re not reading it?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
Nico looked at the envelope.
For most of his life, unanswered questions irritated him physically.
He had wanted every name.
Every account.
Every motive.
Sienna had taught him that sometimes wanting information did not create an obligation to receive it immediately.
“I don’t know if I want what’s inside.”
Sienna nodded.
“Then don’t read it.”
Simple.
That almost made him angry.
Not at her.
At how easy the sentence sounded.
Three days later he opened it.
Dominic did not defend the fund.
He did not write that Nico had forced his hand.
He wrote:
I believed your system was cruel in specific cases.
I was right about that.
Then I used being right about one problem to justify building something you could not see.
Nico stopped.
Read it again.
Dominic continued.
He admitted allowing Richard to use the hidden accounts.
Admitted staying silent while Richard carried the full blame.
Admitted allowing Gavin access because exposure frightened him more than confronting what the system had become.
Then:
I told myself I was protecting families.
Eventually I was protecting my secret.
Those became different things long before I admitted it.
Nico folded the page.
Not finished.
Enough for that day.
The next morning he read the rest.
Dominic wrote about Sienna.
Not sentimentally.
He admitted warning Gavin after Sienna sent the preliminary report.
He admitted approving the insurance broker request without reading the full packet.
He admitted taking Sienna’s phone from Gavin only after realizing the garage confrontation had moved beyond financial pressure.
Then:
I helped create the conditions that made your daughter less safe.
I did not intend that.
Intent is not enough.
Nico sat very still.
That sentence sounded familiar.
Too familiar.
At the bottom:
I am not asking for my position back.
I am not asking you to call me your friend.
I am telling you what I should have told you years ago without making fear do the speaking for me.
Nico placed the letter beside Richard’s.
Two old men.
Two hidden truths.
Different reasons.
Same silence.
He did not reply.
A week passed.
Then two.
Dominic sent nothing else.
Good.
One Sunday Sienna came with Mila and Luca.
Mila’s hair was cut short now.
Even on both sides.
She ran through the library.
Stopped beside Nico.
“Grandpa.”
“Yes?”
“Mommy says you have scissors.”
Nico looked toward Sienna.
She smiled.
“For paper.”
Mila held up construction paper.
“I’m making Luca hair.”
Four-month-old Luca appeared uninterested.
Nico gave her child-safe scissors.
Then hesitated.
Only for a second.
Mila noticed anyway.
“You scared?”
The question surprised him.
“Of scissors?”
“Yes.”
Nico looked at her hair.
Then at the tool.
“A little.”
Mila thought.
“Aunt Sabrina scissors were bad.”
“No.”
He corrected gently.
“The scissors weren’t bad.”
Mila frowned.
“Aunt Sabrina did bad.”
“Yes.”
That mattered.
Objects were easier to blame.
People made choices.
Mila cut yellow paper into terrible strips.
One landed on Nico’s shoe.
Nothing happened.
Later, when Sienna prepared to leave, she glanced toward Dominic’s letter.
“Still nothing?”
“No.”
“You miss him?”
Nico’s answer came before pride could stop it.
“Yes.”
Sienna waited.
“Does that mean you trust him?”
“No.”
Good.
The two things no longer had to match.
Nico watched his daughter leave with her children.
Then returned to the desk.
He took out one sheet of paper.
Wrote:
I READ IT.
Nothing more.
Dominic received the message.
May you like
He did not answer.
For now, that was enough.
