Chapter 16
A year after Sofia’s recorder was found, I went to the marina alone.
No bodyguards.
No Antonio.
Just me.
The same dock.
The same water.
Different man.
I brought the broken brass emblem piece from the club.
Not the whole thing.
Only a small corner.
Sofia used to hate symbols.
She said men polish metal when they do not want to polish themselves.
I finally understood.
I sat on the dock and listened to Victor’s recording one last time.
Sofia shouting.
Victor shouting back.
The crash.
Water.
His panic.
No clean answer.
That bothered me for months.
Then I realized clean answers are another form of vanity.
Sometimes the truth is enough even when every second cannot be reconstructed.
Victor fought with her.
She ended up in the water.
He lied.
He buried the system she tried to expose.
That was enough responsibility.
I did not need to invent certainty to justify anger.
I threw the metal piece into the water.
Not as memorial.
As rejection.
The club would keep the cracked emblem on the wall.
This piece could sink.
Then I took out the old photograph of Sofia and Elise.
Two women outside a club run by men convinced ordinary people never noticed anything.
They noticed everything.
We simply trained ourselves not to listen.
I kept the photograph.
When I returned to the city, I stopped at Vance Bakery.
Daniel was arguing with a supplier.
Maeve sat at a small table drawing.
She looked up.
“Rocco.”
No Mr. Castellano.
No Boss.
Just Rocco.
I liked that.
She held up a drawing.
Three people.
Daniel.
Maeve.
Me.
I pointed at myself.
“Why am I so tall?”
She shrugged.
“You stand now.”
May you like
Fair enough.
Sometimes children summarize an entire year better than adults ever could.
