Chapter 10
Claire gave me the final recording that night.
She had been afraid to mention it earlier.
I understood why once I heard Vanessa’s voice.
“Her mother learned too late.”
Then Enzo.
“The child will learn faster.”
My hands went cold.
The recording was two weeks old.
Claire had left her phone running inside the linen room while replacing towels.
Vanessa and Enzo spoke in the corridor.
Enzo continued.
“St. Catherine’s opens once Damian thinks Audrey cannot be managed here.”
Vanessa laughed.
“And if he refuses?”
“Then another accident.”
Silence.
Vanessa asked:
“How many?”
Enzo answered:
“As many as necessary.”
I stopped the recording.
Matteo sat across from me.
He had not heard this conversation before.
His face showed it.
“You didn’t know.”
“No.”
For the first time, I believed him without needing more.
He had helped stage earlier incidents.
Then the plan grew beyond what he accepted.
Not innocence.
Boundary.
Important distinction.
“When did you step away?”
“After the eyebrow.”
My jaw tightened.
“What happened?”
He looked sick.
“I moved the gardening cart.”
There.
I stared.
“Then what?”
“Audrey turned early.”
His voice cracked.
“The handle caught her.”
I had imagined Vanessa alone responsible for that wound.
Now Matteo owned part of it.
“I told them I was done.”
“Did you tell me?”
“No.”
“Then you weren’t done.”
His eyes closed.
Correct.
Walking away from cruelty without warning the next victim is not courage.
It is self-protection.
Matteo whispered:
“I was afraid of Enzo.”
I nodded.
“Then you know what Audrey felt.”
His eyes opened.
That landed.
Three years old.
Afraid of adults.
Matteo forty-one.
Afraid of an old man’s influence.
No equal comparison.
But enough for shame.
I looked at Vanessa.
“You heard him say as many accidents as necessary.”
She did not deny it.
“And stayed.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Her eyes hardened.
“Because I was tired of losing to a dead woman and a child.”
There it was.
At last.
Not strategy.
May you like
Not tradition.
Hatred.
