Page 114 of No Stone Unturned

Father Armando bowed his head in compliance. “Of course. But you should know the Holy Father granted me special dispensation to tell you this information.”

Slash didn’t indicate surprise or concern that the Pope had released Father Armando from his vow. I guess he must have expected it. He just looked ready to have this conversation over. Honestly, I couldn’t blame him.

“Just tell me who my father is, Emilio.”

I looked between the two men. Their eyes were locked onto each other, neither willing to be the first to look away.

“Your father is the Savior of Salerno, Cristian Descantes,” Father Armando finally said, his voice resigned.

Slash half-laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “Oh, the irony. I have a saint for a father. I’m not sure whether to be amused or genuinely concerned for my soul.”

Father Armando watched him carefully. “You don’t sound surprised. Did you already know?”

“Lexi figured it out last night. I wanted to see if you’d confirm it. Why all the secrecy? What’s the point?” Slash’s voice held a bitter edge. “Why couldn’t you or the Holy Father just tell me?”

“I was bound by my vows, as I told you.”

“But you weren’t the only one who knew,” Slash said. “You said the Holy Father granted you dispensation to tell me.”

“Yes. He knew, as well. As you know, the Holy Father listens to confession. He heard mine, and I heard Cristian’s and your mother’s. However, my vows would not allow me to share your parents’ confessions, even with their son.”

I put a light hand on Slash’s arm, feeling the muscles in his forearm contracting and tightening under my fingertips. I wondered what he was thinking. How many people knew his background and had kept it from him? And why?

“I tried to do right by Cristian with you, but I failed miserably. I am not worthy of him or you. I’m sorry for what you’ve had to endure, Nicolo. I wasn’t nearly the man your father was, but I knew he would have kept his vows even unto death. I could do no less.” Father Armando cleared his throat, taking a moment to compose himself. “You have no idea how much you remind me of him.Il sognatore, the dreamer with the face of a Roman god. That’s what we called him, to his great embarrassment. Cristian never wanted that kind of attention.”

Father Armando paused, his expression softening, and I imagined he was remembering a time long ago when the boys teased each other in fun. “Your father was the godliest man I’ve ever known. He touched my life profoundly. We grew up together in Salerno—went to the same school, played on the same sports teams, dated the same girls. He was not just my friend, he was a brother to me. I entered the priesthood first, after I had my calling at sixteen. He came to the church later. Looking back, I believe he was called to the priesthood for the important mission of teaching humility, sacrifice and the grace of God to those of us who would someday rise in the church. He was given to us for that very purpose. I can’t explain it, but there was something about Cristian—a beauty, a genuine goodness that came from inside. People from every walk of life were drawn to him. It was as if he had an inner light, a magnetism. People wanted to be near him, and he welcomed them all. I don’t know what he saw in me or why I was chosen to be his best friend. I didn’t deserve it—but he honored me anyway. And I wasn’t the only one who loved him. As soon as he met the Holy Father, Cristian became like a son to him. That’s just the way he was. And when he died, you became ours. A son to me and a grandson to the Holy Father. We both love you with all our hearts.”

Father Armando’s deep voice shook with emotion. I gripped Slash’s arm a little tighter, but he said nothing.

Father Armando reached up and held the cross around his neck tightly. “I see God working through you. It’s come full circle, don’t you see? The Savior of Salerno’s son has now saved others. You are his living, breathing miracle.”

“If he were such a saint, why he did abandon me?” Slash finally spoke, his voice tight with emotion. “My own father?”

I glanced at Father Armando and winced at the deep lines of pain etched on his face. “He never knew about you. He never knew he had a son.”

Slash recoiled, as if someone had punched him. I’d thought the situation couldn’t get any worse, but I was wrong. A lump formed in my throat. I couldn’t begin to imagine how Slash was feeling. I pressed my thigh tighter against his to let him know I was with him.

Always.

“Why?” Slash finally managed to ask. “Why didn’t he know about me?”

Father Armando paused, as if readying himself for the revelation. “Your mother didn’t want him to know.”

I hadn’t meant to get involved in the conversation, but my indignation slipped out anyway. “Why? How could she keep something like that from him?” I asked. “What could possibly justify not letting him know he had a son?”

Father Armando didn’t meet my accusing gaze. Instead he looked at Slash. “Your mother and Cristian were no longer engaged when she discovered she was pregnant, not long after the second incident.”

“What second incident?” Slash asked.

“It was a few years after his rescue of the children on the bus at Salerno. Cristian was already a national hero, but he’d not yet had his calling to the church. Cristian once again came upon another life-and-death situation with a half-dozen lives at stake. This time, he didn’t save everyone, he couldn’t. He believed himself to be a failure. No one blamed him, but the souls of those who died weighed heavily on him. He came to me confessing he thought God had used a similar incident to lead him back to the church, believing it was a lesson for him to learn how to save people, not just those whose lives were in immediate jeopardy.Thatwas his calling, and if he were ever required to face such a terrible dilemma again, he wanted to be ready to do God’s will.”

Father Armando pressed both hands over his eyes, as if they burned with weariness. My own breathing had become shallow, a tightness squeezing my chest. I glanced at Slash, but his face was a mask of stone. He sat with lethal calmness, not moving, not saying anything. It was impossible to tell how he was processing this information about his father, about his life.

“Cristian changed after that incident,” Father Armando continued, his voice wavering. “He became deeply conflicted between his love for your mother and feeling led to devote his life to the church. Ultimately, he chose the church and the devout life of a priest. It was truly an anguished decision for him. When he and your mother parted ways, Cristian never knew your mother was pregnant, and it was her decision not to tell him. She believed it was too late. His heart belonged to the church, his life meant for a different purpose. Her path, too, led in a direction other than family. But before she left, she needed to confess. So, she chose me.”

Father Armando picked up a glass of water from the coffee table and took a sip, his hand trembling. “For the rest of his life, Cristian made good on his promise to God. Not only did he save the children of Salerno, but over the years, countless others to whom he ministered. In the end, he sacrificed himself to save seventy-four more children and sixteen adults at Lombardy. I know it seems difficult to believe, but I assure you, Nicolo, God had a plan for him. Your father was truly a saint. In fact, he was the greatest man I’ve ever known...until I met his son.”

In my opinion, it didn’t seem a fair plan that God would put that kind of guilt and devotion into a man’s heart and then give him a son he would never know and a mother who would give him away. Then again, if God hadn’t brought the two of them together, Slash wouldn’t have been born, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with him and we wouldn’t be here having this discussion. But it seemed like an awful lot of pain and anguish for a story that might have turned out a lot happier if different choices had been made. But I supposed that was the way life went—every decision we made took us down a road of our own choosing, impacting those who came after us in ways we might have never expected.

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