Chapter 9
Marcus refused to explain how he knew.
So Mae did.
“When Nora was six months old, someone broke into our apartment.”
I looked at her.
“What was taken?”
“Nothing valuable.”
“Then what?”
“Nora’s hairbrush.”
My stomach turned.
Celeste laughed.
“Come on.”
Mae stared.
“And one of Nolan’s old shirts.”
I remembered the shirt.
Mae had kept it when she left.
Dark blue.
My initials inside the collar.
Marcus’s face changed.
No paperwork.
No doctor.
No official test.
They hadn’t needed one.
Old criminal families had private laboratories and men who asked no questions.
“You compared us.”
Marcus said nothing.
I understood.
“You confirmed she was mine when she was six months old.”
Celeste stepped forward.
“We needed certainty.”
“You needed to know how dangerous she was to your plan.”
“She was not dangerous.”
“No?”
I looked at Nora.
“She was a baby.”
Celeste’s face hardened.
“She was a future problem.”
Mae made a sound.
Not crying.
Rage.
Celeste smiled at her.
“What? You thought people would welcome your little secret?”
Mae stepped forward.
“You called her a problem while she was still in diapers.”
“She existed because you couldn’t stay away from him.”
There.
Blame.
Mae’s face twisted.
Celeste continued:
“If you had known your place four years ago, none of this would have happened.”
I felt my restraint thinning.
Mae said:
“You threatened my pregnancy.”
“You survived.”
“You starved us.”
“You ate.”
“You threatened my daughter.”
“She learned silence.”
Celeste smiled.
“And silence kept her safe.”
No.
Silence kept Celeste safe.
I looked at Marcus.
“What did you plan to do with the paternity confirmation?”
He finally answered.
“Nothing.”
I waited.
“Unless Mae talked.”
“And then?”
“We discredit her.”
“How?”
Celeste laughed.
“Easy.”
She pointed at Mae’s uniform.
“Maid claims Mafia boss fathered her child?”
She tilted her head.
“Who do you think people believe?”
I stared.
“You built her poverty into the lie.”
Marcus smiled faintly.
“Exactly.”
Mae’s face went pale.
He had said the quiet part.
Their whole strategy depended on keeping Mae poor enough, frightened enough and low enough that truth sounded unbelievable.
Then Harris whispered:
“There’s something else.”
Everyone turned.
He looked at Celeste.
“She ordered the music-room cameras disabled this morning.”
I looked at the shattered cabinet.
The broken flowers.
Nora’s bruise.
“Why today?”
Celeste said nothing.
May you like
Harris answered:
“Because Mae and Nora were supposed to leave tonight.”
