Page 11 of Code Name: Dante

“No,” I said firmly. “He’d say you’re being wise. Living to fight another day.”

“What about the Castellano boy?”

“If you’re asking if he’ll be there, I don’t think so. Alice said something about his brother’s trial starting. Plus, it’s Pershing’s family’s camp, Gram. It doesn’t belong to him or his family.”

The excuses, the reasons, I was giving her were the same things I was telling myself. I was the one who’d received the threats she knew nothing about. I’d seen the car with the dark windows go by several times a day, slowing down when it wasn’t necessary to. I’d buried my head in the sand long enough. I wasn’t like my great-grandfather. I couldn’t stare down mobsters and ignore their warnings. Maybe if it was just me, but it wasn’t. Alessandro had known exactly what button to push when he asked how I’d feel if anything happened to the woman seated beside me.

When I raised my head, I watched her look around the kitchen at the generations of memories soaked into these walls. “One condition.”

“Name it.”

“You don’t try to handle this alone. If something feels wrong at the shop, you call for help. No being stubborn.”

I thought of Alessandro’s intensity when he’d insisted on protection, the genuine concern in his eyes. “Deal.”

“One more thing.” She fixed me with a stern look. “You bring my wooden spoon. If I make sauce while I’m there, it won’t taste right without it.”

Later,after Gram had gone to bed, I retreated to my childhood bedroom to check the shop’s accounts. The numbers on my laptop screen blurred together as fatigue set in, but they told a clear story. As I’d informed Gram, three of our biggest wholesale accounts had mysteriously canceled their standing orders in the past week. The loss of revenue would hit hard, especially with the repairs the shop’s aging equipment needed.

My phone buzzed with a text from Alice.Pershing said you’re bringing your grandmother to the camp tomorrow.

If that’s okay.

Of course it is,she replied.

As I was setting my phone down, a notification from the shop’s security system lit up the screen, saying motion had been detected in the back alley. I clicked through to the camera feed with trembling fingers, hoping it was a stray cat or drunk college kids taking a shortcut.

Instead, I watched a dark figure spray-paint something on our back door. The image was grainy in the low light, but I could make out the first two words before the person moved out of frame.We know?—

The rest was cut off, but I knew what it said. The same words had been handwritten on the single sheet of paper enclosed in every envelope we’d received.We know what happened that night, and you will pay.

I switched to the other camera views, but whoever it was had already vanished. My finger hovered over Alessandro’s number, which Alice had insisted on programming into my phone “just in case.”

The events from earlier replayed in my mind—his concern about the letter, his insistence on protection. Had he known something like this would happen? Did it matter? Clearly, Gram and I were in danger. Tomorrow, we’d be at Canada Lake, protected. Tonight, we were still vulnerable.

I hit call, holding my breath as it rang. On the third ring, his voice came through, alert despite the late hour. “Lark? What’s wrong?”

“Someone was at the shop,” I said quietly, not wanting Gram to overhear. “Spray-painting something. I can see them on the security feed.”

“I’ll have someone there in three minutes. Are you and your grandmother secure?”

“We’re home. Doors locked.”

“Stay there. I’m sending a team to watch the house too.” He paused. “Thank you for calling.”

“I promised Gram I would.” I swallowed hard. “We’ll be ready to leave for Canada Lake in the morning.”

“Good. That’s the right decision, Lark.” The relief in his voice was palpable. “I’ll handle everything. Just don’t do anything rash tonight. Stay inside where you’ll be safe.”

“I will.” I ended the call and walked around the main level of the house, making sure all the windows were locked like the doors were.

The sound of Gram’s cane on the hardwood floors upstairs pulled me from my thoughts. I quickly went to check on her.

“Can’t sleep?” I asked, finding her in the hallway.

“Bad dreams.” She gripped her cane tighter.

I helped her back to bed, tucking the quilt around her shoulders like she used to do for me. As I turned to leave, she caught my hand.

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