“You don’t know how yet. You will. You’ll know when she lets you in the room with her. Until then you wait.”
He stands. Walks around the desk.
His hand goes to my shoulder. The grip Dante has been giving his brothers for years. Hand. Shoulder. Hold. Mean it.
He doesn’t shake.
He holds.
I want to go back to when I was small. When Mama died and Dante came into my room and sat with me without talking. He didn’t explain it or ask what I needed. He just came in and stayed.
I didn’t know how to be grateful for it then.
I know now.
I breathe.
“You’re not doing this alone. You weren’t doing it alone yesterday and you’re not doing it alone today. The family is with you. The mistake was thinking you had to carry it. You don’t make that mistake again.”
I nod.
I don’t trust my voice.
He holds my shoulder for one full breath more. Drops his hand.
“Go. Renzo’s in the hallway. Gia will find you in the corridor. Marco is already in the back room running the protocols. They’ve been waiting for you to come down.”
I walk out.
Renzo is in the hallway.
Back against the wall opposite Dante’s study door. Arms crossed. He hasn’t been pacing. He’s been here. He didn’t get this private with me in the back room because the back room wasn’t for this.
I close Dante’s study door behind me.
Renzo doesn’t move from the wall.
“You should have come to me.”
“I know.”
A beat.
“Don’t do it again.”
“I won’t.”
He pushes off the wall.
His right hand goes to the back of my neck. Two breaths.
He drops his hand.
He says, quieter:
“I held a thing back from you once. You don’t know what it is and I’m not telling you now. But I know what it costs to carryit. I know what it does to a man. I’m not going to pretend you should have known better. I’m telling you what I know. Don’t do it again.”
I look at him.