Page 86 of Secret Baby for the Italian Mafia King

Harper stirs. The slightest twist of her limbs. The white hospital sheets shift. I’m on my feet before I remember standing, leaning on the edge of the bed.

“Harper,” Nadia murmurs softly, stroking her hand over the girl’s wild hair. “Harper, I’m right here, okay? I’m right here.”

She blinks without really seeing us. Her eyes close again, and she breathes a big, stuttering breath, and relaxes again.

I am overwhelmed by the urge to do something. And finally, when the phone rings the next time, I answer it. Salvatore Mori, just like I knew it would be.

“How is she?” Salvatore answers at once.

“She’ll make it,” I say, as if there isn’t another option.

“Good.”

“That’s the last of the good news, isn’t it?” I ask him. A grim silence answers me. “What happened, Mori?”

“You want to hear it from me or my wife?”

“Does it matter?”

“I don’t sugarcoat. And if I tell the truth the way I see it, you’re gonna want to do something about it, and I don’t know what that something is going to be.”

I brace myself. And then, second-guessing, I slide my hand out of Nadia’s and cross into the hallway, out of earshot.

“Elijah gave her up, didn’t he?”

“…The weasel didn’t even try,” Salvatore confirms, almost gently for such a condemning sentence. He says it like he’s breaking the news that my brother died. He might as well have. All the times I looked into Elijah’s face that morning, I read him totally wrong. Salvatore continues, once my ears have stopped ringing, “He said the family was interested in a resolution. The resolution didn’t seem to include you. The way he made it sound, the whole family is ready to move under new management.”

I stare at the wall opposite me, where a dry erase board has been hung up. An array of sloppily drawn smiley faces stare back at me, numbered 1 to 10, the big blocky numbers: RATE YOUR PAIN LEVEL written in colorful marker. The 10 face and I stare back at each other, its scribbled red expression mocking me with its open mouth and teary eyes.

Would Elijah betray me like that with no reason? Have I given him a reason? That moment of having a knife pressed under his jaw comes back to me. But I didn’t hurt him. I never hurt him, not really—

My throat feels tight.

“What was their resolution?”

“The families backed Dellucci, but they’re giving Elijah a chance to settle things. If Elijah takes over and gives Nadia over to Jon—the whole thing’s settled. They won’t have to wipe out all of you. It might buy you some time.”

So, it’s not open season on everyone. It’s just open season on me.

My eyes move past the 10 smiley. Feels like there should be another one there. Something beyond that level of pain, beyond the physical.

“My brother wouldn’t do that.”

“I watched him do it. If you can pack up and run, you should.”

I stare down at Harper. Weak and small and helpless.

“I’m not backing down from this.”

“Ren—”

“I’ll send Nadia and Harper off somewhere. I’ll make sure they’re safe. But I’m not running.”

Salvatore shuffles on the other end of the line.

“If it gets violent, I don’t know how much I can do for you.”

“I understand.”

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