Page 105 of Ruthless Sin

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She crosses past the chicory pot on the back burner. Goes to the smaller pot at the front. Pours warm milk into a mug. Sets the mug across the marble toward me.

I look at the milk.

“Nonna.”

“Drink it,cher.”

I drink.

The milk tastes like ash. I drink it anyway.

The woman asleep upstairs is the sister of the woman who died begging me to find her.

I found her.

And I’ve been lying to her for weeks.

“You been keeping a secret long enough to want coffee. You’re going to want milk tonight.”

She pulls the plate she’s drying out of the rack. Wipes it. Sets it down.

She doesn’t turn.

“You’re going to break that girl’s heart,cher.”

I don’t deny it.

She moves on.

“I’m not asking what you’re keeping,” she says. “I’ve watched you carry something for three years. I know what a secret looks like on a Santoro man. I watched your father carry one before telling your mama.”

She turns. She looks at me.

Her face hasn’t changed since I was a boy after Mama’s funeral.

“I’m asking you when you’re going to tell her.”

I look at the milk.

“Soon.”

“Soon when.”

A beat. Another.

“Tomorrow.”

She nods.

“Then tonight is the last night you get with her on a lie.”

She turns back to the sink. Picks up the next plate. Wipes it.

“Drink the milk. Go up. Be careful.”

The phone vibrates in my pocket before I’ve finished the milk.

Marco. He’s at Casa Lucia. He went over an hour ago to set the lockdown himself.

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