Chapter 3
I asked Mia one question.
“Did Maura stop you from eating?”
She didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
Maura scoffed.
“Oh, don't make this dramatic.”
I turned toward her.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Mia.”
My daughter's head lifted.
“Did she stop you from eating?”
Her eyes filled again.
“Sometimes.”
Grant stepped forward.
“She refused dinner.”
Mia shook her head.
“No.”
Grant's voice sharpened.
“Yes, you did.”
I looked at him.
He softened instantly.
“Mia, sweetheart.”
Fake kindness.
The worst kind.
“You remember. You threw tantrums.”
“No.”
“You wouldn't sit properly.”
Mia's breathing changed.
Grant kept going.
“You wouldn't finish lessons.”
I stood between them again.
“Stop coaching her.”
He laughed.
“Coaching?”
“You're telling her what happened.”
“Because she doesn't remember.”
Mia shouted:
“I remember!”
Everyone froze.
My daughter rarely shouted.
Grant's face hardened.
Then his smile returned.
“See?”
He looked at me.
“No manners.”
Maura crossed her arms.
“Exactly why punishment was necessary.”
I turned.
“What punishment?”
Maura looked bored.
“If she refused to behave, she didn't eat with the family.”
“For how long?”
“Until she apologized.”
Mia whispered:
“Sometimes breakfast too.”
I couldn't move.
Maura saw my face.
“Oh, please.”
She waved one hand.
“She wasn't starving.”
My daughter looked down.
Maura continued.
“There were snacks.”
Mia whispered:
“No.”
Maura's eyes cut toward her.
“What did you say?”
“There weren't.”
Maura took one step.
Marco blocked her.
My aunt smiled at him.
“Move.”
“No.”
Her face hardened.
“You work for this family.”
Marco looked at me.
Then back at her.
“I work for him.”
That hurt Maura more than it should have.
She turned toward me.
“This is what you've created.”
“What?”
“Servants who think they can contradict blood.”
I ignored her.
“Mia.”
My daughter looked at me.
“What happened when you were hungry?”
She rubbed one hand over her stomach.
“Grandma said hungry girls listen better.”
I closed my eyes.
One second.
That was all I allowed myself.
Then I looked at Maura.
She smiled.
“Yes.”
As if she'd won something.
“I said that.”
Grant muttered:
“Mother.”
She ignored him.
“You wanted honesty.”
Her eyes stayed on me.
“Here it is.”
She pointed toward Mia.
“You spoil her.”
“She is five.”
“And that is exactly when weakness begins.”
I laughed once.
I couldn't help it.
Maura frowned.
“You think this is funny?”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“I think you actually believe yourself.”
“Of course I do.”
“That's worse.”
She lifted her chin.
“I raised Grant.”
Grant straightened.
As if that was evidence in her favor.
I looked at him.
He had insulted a five-year-old to make his mother smile.
Yes.
She had raised him.
Maura continued.
“Children need structure. Food is a privilege. Toys are a privilege. Attention is a privilege.”
I stared at her.
“Safety?”
She paused.
“What?”
“Is safety a privilege too?”
She smiled.
“If a child knows how to behave, safety isn't usually a problem.”
My hands curled.
Marco shifted.
He knew me well.
Maura knew me better.
She smiled wider.
“Go ahead.”
“What?”
“Get angry.”
She glanced toward the capos.
“Show everyone how easy you are to control now.”
There it was.
Control.
Not Mia.
Me.
I looked toward the little Christmas house on the table.
The recording.
Council doors close.
Girl goes upstairs.
Lorenzo drinks.
Grant sits in his chair.
I picked it up.
“When did she record this?”
Mia thought.
“Yesterday afternoon.”
“Where?”
“Big table.”
This room.
“What were you doing?”
“Painting.”
“Where were Maura and Grant?”
She pointed toward the adjoining council room.
Grant laughed.
“We weren't plotting in front of a child.”
Mia looked at him.
“You came out.”
He stopped.
“What happened?”
My daughter rubbed her eyes.
“Grandma said go upstairs.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
Maura sighed.
“Of course not.”
She looked at me.
“Your daughter never listens.”
Mia continued.
“I hid.”
“Where?”
“Under table.”
The same table.
I looked beneath it.
Nothing now.
But yesterday a five-year-old had been sitting there with a half-made gift.
Listening.
“What did you hear?”
Maura stepped forward.
“This stops now.”
I looked at her.
“No.”
“She is tired.”
“So am I.”
“She needs bed.”
“She needs me.”
Maura's eyes narrowed.
Mia whispered:
“They talked about black bottle.”
Every adult in the room went still.
I looked at her.
“What black bottle?”
Grant's expression changed.
Maura didn't move.
Mia pointed toward the council room.
“Grandma said Daddy gets special drink.”
My stomach tightened.
I looked at my head of security.
“Check the council table.”
He left immediately.
Maura laughed.
“You cannot be serious.”
I didn't answer.
“Wine?”
She shook her head.
“Now a five-year-old mentioning a bottle is conspiracy?”
Grant joined in.
“This is insane.”
Mia pressed herself against Marco.
Grant looked at her.
“You know what happens to children who lie about adults?”
I turned.
“Grant.”
He ignored me.
His eyes stayed on Mia.
“They stop being believed.”
Mia's face crumpled.
He smiled.
“Then when something really happens…”
He shrugged.
“…nobody comes.”
I crossed the room before I realized I'd moved.
Grant stepped back.
My head of security returned.
He was carrying a black glass bottle.
Unopened.
Maura went completely still.
He placed it on the table.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“This wasn't part of tonight's council service.”
I looked at Grant.
Then Maura.
The security chief continued.
“It was placed at your chair before dinner.”
Silence.
I turned toward my aunt.
“By whom?”
She smiled.
Too slowly.
May you like
Then said:
“If you'd stayed in council like you were supposed to, you wouldn't be asking.”
