Chapter 10
The chapel cabinet contained one wooden box.
No name.
Only a blue star carved into the lid.
Grace touched it and started crying.
“Dad’s.”
Maybe.
Or Lorenzo’s tribute to him.
Inside were three objects.
Carlo’s capo pin.
A photograph of Stefano meeting two north soldiers the morning of the warehouse attack.
And a sealed note from Lorenzo to me.
I opened it.
Vittorio,
If you’re reading this, Diana finally failed to keep everything quiet.
I almost smiled.
Even dead, Lorenzo knew her.
The note was not long.
He had discovered Carlo helped Stefano alter security the day Marcus died. Carlo later regretted it, but regret became another secret rather than confession.
Then Lorenzo wrote something unexpected.
Carlo tried to tell me.
I looked at Diana.
She turned away.
“When?”
She did not answer.
I kept reading.
Carlo confessed to Lorenzo eight years after Marcus’s death. He wanted to tell me too.
Diana stopped him.
Why?
Because Mark had helped his father alter the guard list that morning.
Not knowing there would be an assassination attempt.
But knowing something irregular was happening.
If Carlo confessed, Mark’s future inside the family would collapse.
Diana chose her son.
Again.
“What happened after Lorenzo learned?”
Mark’s voice came from the chapel entrance.
“He told my father he had forty-eight hours to tell you.”
I turned.
Mark looked destroyed.
“And then the warehouse collapsed.”
Silence.
“Did your father cause it?”
“No.”
He said it too quickly.
Then corrected himself.
“I don’t know.”
Better.
“What do you know?”
“My mother met with him the night before.”
Diana snapped, “Enough.”
Mark finally looked at her differently.
Not obedient.
Tired.
“You said Dad couldn’t survive the shame.”
Diana’s face changed.
Mark continued.
“You said Lorenzo was forcing him to choose between his son and confession.”
Grace whispered, “And what did Carlo choose?”
Mark closed his eyes.
“He disappeared for six hours.”
The next morning the warehouse collapsed.
Lorenzo died inside.
Carlo survived another two years.
Never confessed.
I looked at Diana.
“Did Carlo kill my brother?”
“No.”
For once, I believed her immediate answer.
“Then who?”
She hesitated.
“I don’t know.”
Maybe true.
Then she added:
“But Carlo believed the collapse wasn’t an accident.”
I stared.
“Who did he suspect?”
Diana looked at Mark.
Mark looked back.
May you like
Then finally at me.
“The same north men who survived Stefano.”
