Chapter 2
Sophie ate in my private sitting room.
Not at the dining table.
She refused to go back there.
I did not ask her to.
One of the kitchen women brought pasta, bread, and sliced fruit. Sophie looked at the plate before touching anything.
Then she looked at me.
“You said I can?”
I felt shame before anger.
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
She took one strawberry.
Slowly.
As though someone might change the rules halfway through.
I stayed until she finished.
Then I returned downstairs.
The eight relatives who remained were waiting.
So was Bianca.
The dog bowl sat in the middle of the table.
I had ordered nobody to move it.
Bianca glared at me.
“This performance is beneath you.”
I took my seat.
“My daughter was on her knees beside a dog bowl.”
“She was being corrected.”
“For what?”
“She threw food.”
A woman at the table—my cousin Elena—looked up.
“No.”
Bianca turned.
Elena swallowed.
“Sophie dropped her spoon.”
That was different.
I looked at her.
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“How many times?”
She closed her eyes.
“More than once.”
Bianca laughed.
“Of course. Now everyone becomes brave.”
Elena ignored her.
“She started taking Sophie’s meals away two months ago.”
My jaw tightened.
“Why?”
Bianca answered.
“Because the child is spoiled.”
Elena shook her head.
“No. Because Sophie asked why Matteo sat in Alessandro’s chair.”
The name landed.
Matteo Vitale.
My older cousin.
Forty-one.
A capo with three crews and too much patience.
He was not at dinner tonight.
Interesting.
I looked at Bianca.
“What does Matteo have to do with my daughter’s food?”
Nothing.
Then one of the older men spoke.
“He was supposed to be here.”
I turned.
“Supposed to?”
The man hesitated.
“Bianca said tonight was important.”
I leaned back.
“For what?”
No answer.
Bianca’s hands tightened.
Then Elena whispered:
“To see whether Sophie would embarrass you again.”
Again.
I looked at my aunt.
She had not humiliated Sophie randomly.
She had staged something.
At my family table.
May you like
For an audience.
And the dog bowl had been part of the demonstration.
