Page 70 of What's Left of Us

“I thought you would have fought harder for me the way you used to.” I sit down and feel my shoulders drop.

Her smile saddens. “I have always fought for you. I told you to go that night. I took his palm for you when you came back thenext morning. I wanted you to find your happiness outside of your family.”

Guilt crashes into me when my eyes go to the cheek my father had struck. I look down at the book I’ve abandoned when the memory becomes too much.

“I’m here because I had to see for myself if you were okay. I heard you were working here. I…” She stops herself, reaching out to place her hand in front of me. “Ineededto see for myself.”

“So youdohave a mind of your own,” I comment dryly, staring at her nails. They’re painted light pink. I wonder who does them now that I don’t live there. I used to beg her to let me do them every two weeks, and she’d let me pick the craziest colors.

“You’ve changed.”

I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. “I needed to.”

Mrs. Ricci takes a long moment to process that. I can feel her eyes studying me, but I refuse to glance up. “I can see that.”

Waiting for more, an apology,anything, I realize it’s all in vain.

I suppose anybody who worked for the Del Rossi family would have to be used to a certain kind of demeanor. Mrs. Ricci has worked for my family longer than most people. She’s used to cool indifference by now. An apology might be too much to ask for.

“Georgia…” Hope blossoms inside me, but I try containing it the best I can. “Your father threatened Millie’s parents. He said if Millie spoke to you, he would take away her mother’s store and her father’s license. It’s all they have. That’s why Millie hasn’t reached out. I’m sure her parents made sure of it. He can do worse.Hasdone worse because of the people he knows. And he’s capable of more when he’s crossed.”

All I can do is gawk at her. She clearly knows more than she’s letting on, just like everybody else around me. The question is, why won’t anybody tell me the truth?

“I no longer work for him,” she admits. “He didn’t feel like my loyalty was to him anymore, and he’s right. I’ve always had a soft spot for you—always stayed to ensure you had somebody when it was clear they couldn’t be what you needed.”

I’d guessed that my father threatened people to make sure I had nobody in my corner. He thought isolating me would bring me back to him with my tail tucked between my legs.

But it didn’t.

“He fired you?”

She nods once. “I don’t regret it. Once upon a time, your father was a good man. But now he’s…confused. Driven by things that will be his ruin. His business dealings are getting dangerous, and the people he’s associating with are putting pressure on him, which puts him in a peculiar spot. I have no reason to watch his downfall now that you’ve made it out.”

What does she know that I don’t? “Should I be concerned?”

Mrs. Ricci’s expression turns contemplative, making me wonder what she’s holding back. “I want you to be careful. You shouldn’t underestimate what your father is capable of, especially when he’s at risk of losing so much. The Carbone family are not the worst people he knows. There are others who wish your father harm, and they’ll do whatever they can to hit him where it hurts. Remember that. Okay?”

Her warning makes goosebumps pebble my arms, but I force myself to nod.

It feels like forever before I’m able to form words, including the question that’s prodded my conscience for weeks. “You knew my mother, right?”

A genuine smile returns. “I did.”

“Did she…?” Pressing my lips together, I take a deep breath. “Did she really die in a car accident? Or was it something else?”

Her smile slips, only for a microsecond, before she replaces it with a tighter one. “That is a question you are better off not knowing the answer to, Georgia.”

The reply cements an ugly feeling in the pit of my stomach. “How am I supposed to be careful if everybody keeps me in the dark?”

Her eyes warm. “Oh, sweet girl,” she says, sighing. “Sometimes the dark is the safest place to be. Because without the light, you don’t see the monsters for what they really are.”

She steps back, turning her head toward the door before hesitating. “Was it for love?” she eventually asks, her eyes lingering on my empty ring finger.

I swallow, trailing the pad of my thumb over the space a ring should sit. “I heard once that you learn to love the person you’re married to. With time.”

The brown eyes that remind me of the warm hot chocolate she’d make me when I was little fill with something unreadable.

Rubbing my arm, I say, “I got a new number. Lincoln…he got me a phone. I can give it to you so we can keep in touch.”

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