Page 115 of Vita Mia

“GÉNÉRALE? CAN WE SPEAK. Alone?” Sera said.

She walked out of the room into the hall. The Générale followed and she could see from the rage on his face he was on the verge of exploding. She tried to calm him with a smile and swallowed for a gulp of bravery.

“You can’t expect compliance from her overnight.”

“You told me you could handle her,” he said through clenched teeth.

“She’s been locked up, medicated, and isolated for months, near to a year. This is normal.”

“Normal? Normal!”

“We have to bring her in. Treat her with some of the respect she has lost. I suggest we take her to the prosecutor. Let her be interviewed again.”

“No! Definitely not! Did you hear the accusations? If she says it in front of the prosecutor everything is tossed. No. I have ways of bringing the bitch to her knees.”

“Listen!” Sera objected. “She is the strongest weapon you have against the Battaglias. Swallow your pride for once and see the big picture. Schedule the meeting for Thursday. Give me three days. I’ll make sure she is ready.”

The Générale took a step toward Sera. He towered over her. His nostrils flared revealing the long wild hairs in each. His eyes were dark and angry. “If I lose Giovanni Battaglia, you lose doctor. And that bitch in there loses. You make sure she understands the true nature of things. No one has the power but me!”

Sera nodded.

The Générale stormed off the down the hall and his men followed. Sera calmed her nerves before she opened the door and went back inside. She found Marietta grinning at her.

“You really aren’t smart, are you?”

Marietta winked.

“This isn’t a game Marietta. This is your life. This is all that is left of your life. Before you speak I want you to think really hard about sacrifices. The ones your mother made for you. The one your husband made for you.”

Marietta’s smile faded from her lips.

“What sacrifice are you willing to make for your daughter? You must decide now. Right now. Because the reality is, if Giovanni Battaglia walks out of that prison you will never see her again. Is that what you want?”

Marietta shook her head no.

“Good. So, no more games. We have three days and you are going to be ready. No matter the sacrifice.”

***

“LET’S GO OVER IT AGAIN,” the prosecutor sighed. She walked over to the wall of photos. “Santo. He died while in police custody. How?”

Marietta stared at Santo’s picture. For three day’s she had a regimen of a more balanced diet, medication, mediation, and therapy. She felt calmer. The visions of her mother appearing had stopped. But nothing, no one, nothing changed her anger and resentment. She only learned how best to cover it.

“Signora, do I need to repeat the question?” the prosecutor asked.

“Dominic killed him. I think. Or maybe it was Renaldo. I can’t remember,” Marietta said and chewed her nail.

“You can’t remember?” the Générale scoffed. “Dominic Battaglia’s the runt of the litter, he couldn’t get close enough to Santo to kill him.”

“Then Gio did it.” Marietta shrugged.

The prosecutor cut her gaze over to the Générale.

“What about her?” the prosecutor asked.

“Who is she?” Marietta squinted.

“Her name is Carmella Ramazzini. She was a house servant in Mondello—“ the prosecutor began.

---