Chapter 14
A year after the reception, Rocco held another family gathering.
Not in the ballroom.
Not with fifty guests.
A small dinner in the garden room.
Mia wore green glasses now.
She had chosen them because, in her words, purple was “for when I was little.”
She was five.
Rocco did not correct the absurdity.
Halfway through dinner, a cousin asked about Adrian.
The room became uncomfortable.
Rocco changed the subject.
Later Mia found him alone near the windows.
“Uncle Adrian bad?”
Rocco looked down at her.
“He made bad choices.”
“Is he jail?”
The question startled him.
Children overheard more than adults believed.
“Not right now.”
“Where?”
“Living somewhere else.”
“Does he have glasses?”
Rocco almost smiled.
“No.”
Mia frowned.
“Then why he take mine?”
There it was.
The question underneath everything.
Rocco crouched.
“He wanted to do something he knew was wrong without you seeing it.”
Mia processed that.
“But I saw.”
“Yes.”
“Even blurry.”
Rocco smiled faintly.
“Yes.”
She seemed pleased.
Then he corrected the part that mattered.
“But it was never your job to catch him.”
Mia looked confused.
“You were supposed to be safe. Adults were supposed to handle the rest.”
She nodded.
Then asked for dessert.
May you like
The conversation ended exactly where a five-year-old believed serious conversations should end.
With cake.
