Page 104 of Angelo

"It has to do with my grandfather."

"I… see."

They both fell silent. The distance between mother and daughter had never been more apparent. Emotions too complex to name swirled between them. Mothers were supposed to love unconditionally. Daughters were meant to love them back. A void of longing filled with frustration. Their bond should've been unbreakable. But there was barely a whisper of understanding between them. They shared no memories. They knew nothing about each other's thoughts and feelings, likes and dislikes, or beliefs and wishes. They were strangers in every sense of the word.

Isabella spoke up first, "What has he done now?"

"Boris has turned on him. He's trying to control Benedetto through you. You could be in danger."

"I appreciate the warning."

"Would you be willing to come back to Sicily?" If Isabella returned to Palermo and accepted round-the-clock protection, they might be able to undermine Boris' hold over Benedetto.

"I am sorry, Elyse, but I would rather die." Her mother's response stung. Because Elyse could tell that she meant it.

"What if we sent someone to London to protect you?"

"I will disappear again if you send someone to look for me."

"I see."

"Why are you asking me to do these things?"

"Because,” Elyse started in pained tones, “if you do not help me, I might lose the one person I love most.”

Alessio.

There was a long pause on Isabella's end. "As long as it does not drag me back into your world, I will do what I can for you."

Elyse fought the urge to press Isabella to change her mind. Placing her under protection seemed to be the perfect solution to their problems. Yet, Isabella was willing to die to get away from their world. It felt wrong to force her mother to give up her hard-won freedom. This was a line that Elyse refused to cross.

“Can you talk to Benedetto for me?”

“About what?”

“Doing the right thing.”

As she outlined her backup plan, Isabella jumped on board, and, for a few minutes, Elyse experienced what it might feel like to have a mother's support, and the moment filled an emptiness inside of her that she didn't even know existed.

After they ended their call, Isabella didn't contact her again until Christmas Day. "I spoke to your grandfather."

"You did?"

Her mother's voice floated through the speaker in sad, serious tones, "He has agreed to our request."

Shock flowed through Elyse. "He did?"

"Yes." Her mother's response felt heavy and melancholic, even though the moment should've been a triumphant one.

"How did you get him to... agree?"

"I told your grandfather that I would finally forgive him," Isabella murmured, "if he did this for me."

"Did you mean it?"

"Yes."

"Thank you," Elyse said quietly, "for all of your help."

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